


Vapour Trail

by numinousnumbat



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Swearing, Tarsus IV mention, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-12 01:17:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18436028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numinousnumbat/pseuds/numinousnumbat
Summary: Leonard McCoy has enough to worry about starting at Starfleet, but his new friend Jim Kirk might have even more baggage. A first year academy fic in which Leonard is forced to get his shit together whether he likes it or not.





	1. You seem to come and go, I never seem to know

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think of this as near-canon as I didn’t try to match the facts we have from canon (any timeline). As a note, in this story Leonard has a therapist, and it’s more of a plot device than how therapy would (should?) work. Leonard also has a problem with alcohol, and while I’ve roughly based his emotional experiences on a friend, I wasn’t aiming for accurateness as much as story. 
> 
> Title and chapter titles are from Ride’s song of the same name:
> 
> _Thirsty for your smile, I watch you for a while._  
>  _You are a vapour trail in a deep blue sky._

Leonard McCoy was sitting at the bar a couple of drinks in to what he was assuming was going to be the same sort of cycle he’d had recently: drink until closing time, pass out at a shitty motel, wake up at some point the next day, repeat.

Hard to believe a year ago he’d spend as much on one good bourbon as a night of bourbon now.

The bar was still mostly empty, so when a older, good-looking man took the seat next to him, it was hard to ignore. The man was wearing a military uniform and had the air of someone who was used to giving orders. They were in Riverside, Iowa, so the military part made sense, probably. Sitting next to Len, less so.

More than one person had bought him a drink these past few months. They’d spend a couple credits, feel better supporting some drunk. Len usually refused, but he was getting to the point where his meager bank account was looking especially low, and he hadn’t heard back from the few clinics and labs to which he’d sent an application.

He also hadn’t checked his PADD in a few days, to be fair.

“Leonard McCoy?” the man asked. That was a first.

Len looked up from his drink. “Yeah?” His surprise at hearing his name from a stranger made him sound defensive, he realized. Too late now.

“Christopher Pike.” He motioned to the bartender, and the bartender poured two drinks and slid a drink in front of each of them.

Pike took a sip of his drink and sat it back down. “You’re a hard man to track down.”

Ah, so this was the end of the line for him. Finally heading to jail for at least one of the biggest two fuckups of his life. Well, he’d had three major fuckups, but you don’t go to jail for being a terrible husband and father.

Even if you should.

“Is this about murdering my father or operating drunk?” He didn’t look over at Pike, but didn’t see Pike react in his peripheral vision.

“Neither.” If Pike was surprised by his confession, he didn’t show it. “I have a job opportunity for you.”

Things were happening too fast for his drunk and tired brain to keep up. A job?

“Starfleet. I’d like you as a surgeon, but if you’re more interested in research, we have opportunities there. Good funding, get your name on all kinds of articles.”

“You’re six months too late.” Len finished his drink in a large swallow and started on the one Pike had bought him.

“I’ve checked with a friend who’s a doctor. He says since you didn’t touch the patient and walked out, you’re probably looking at an official reprimand, a year of probation.”

“Were you _spying_ on me?”

“Called in a couple of favors, asked a few questions.”

Len turned to look at him. “Why me?”

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you since you published in _Xenobiology Quarterly_ , what was it? six years ago?”

“Something like that.” Len couldn’t do the math if his life depended on it.

“Anyway, I was here on business, and since you applied for an orderly position at our clinic, I was pinged when I landed. Thought I’d make an offer.”

“You can’t just give me my life back like nothing happened.”

“You’re right. Right now you’re a liability. You’ll start as a freshman cadet, no rank. 60-day alcohol bracelet. Weekly therapy meetings. Volunteer clinic hours until your probation is finished. That’s along with whatever the Medical Board hands down.”

“That’s a hard bargain.”

“If it was easy, you wouldn’t be interested.” Pike finished his drink and set his glass down. “I need to check on a some new recruits at the other bar in town. The shuttle to the Academy leaves tomorrow at 0800. I hope to see you there.” Pike stood and with a press of his hand to Len’s shoulder, was gone out the door as suddenly as he had appeared.

The bartender left the bottle of bourbon in front of Len. “He took care of your tab, too.” Len grabbed the bottle and headed out the door. His decision wasn’t hard when it was between something and nothing, but he was going to need that bourbon to get on a shuttle in the morning.

 

***

 

“Cadet McCoy?” an older woman with a no-nonsense attitude asked, glaring at her PADD.

“That’s me.” Len’s legs were still shaking from the landing; he’d needed the kid’s help to get down the stairs.

“You’re getting an alcohol bracelet at the clinic.”

“There’s still alcohol in my system,” Len said dumbly. The sensor couldn’t go on until there was no measurable alcohol left.

“You’ll sober up at the clinic,” she said, jabbing at her PADD. “Do we need a security escort?” She looked up and stared him straight in the eyes.

“It’s not like that,” Len tried to explain, shoulders drooping. The kid ran over and tried to give him his duffle, but seeing as how the kid didn’t seem to have much in the way of worldly possessions - and Len had thrown up on him - Len shoved the duffle back at him. “Borrow some clothes.” The kid looked like he wanted to argue. “If you can throw every single thing in the refresher before they spring me, I’ll owe you.”

The kid took a split second to mull it over. “I’ll come visit!” he yelled cheerfully, like Len was having his tonsils out, not submitting to mandated bodily surveillance. The woman with the PADD didn’t have time to wait and started walking without another look at Len.

“Get a regen on your face, make sure they don’t set it too high, or it’s going to scar. And double check that you don’t have a hairline fracture in your cheek.” Len hurried to catch up with the woman before she decided to call security on him. He turned back one more time and saw the kid was still watching him. “And get hydrated before basic training starts.” The kid waved.

Christ. What a start.

The trip to San Francisco was a drunken blur. He vaguely remembered making it to the shuttle, his name on the list. He’d thought he was drunk enough to make it through the flight, but at soon as the thrusters started warming up, he’d panicked, completely panicked, and headed to the bathroom. He was dragged out and strapped down next to the kid.

It wasn’t even a top ten lowest moment as moments go in his shitty life.

The kid had said his name was Jim, Len was pretty sure, that moment was pretty clear. Jim who’d been in a hell of a brawl within the past 12 hours and should have been checked out and patched up before the shuttle ride.

The kid had talked and talked and Len had tried to keep up, but they’d hit a bit of a rough patch and Len had thrown up on him. Jim had simply patted his head and called for cleanup.

That right there might be a top ten lowest moment in his shitty life, actually, vomiting on a stranger.

Len followed the woman up the stairs of the clinic. She led him down a few hallways, up an elevator, and then down a few more hallways. She left him to sit in an uncomfortable chair for a while, then a couple of nurses escorted him to a small room that only had a biobed, where he was told to strip and put on a white t-shirt and pajama pants, the uniform of those under observation. They took his clothes and bag and left the room, the whirr as they left letting him know he’d been locked in.

Len felt like shit, actually, and he slid down to the floor in the corner. He knew they had enough cameras in the room that he didn’t actually have any privacy, but he didn’t have to sit on the biobed and tell them everything. Not until they made him.

His hands were shaking, and, dammit, he could use a drink. He let his thoughts drift and after a long while, long enough his legs would be pins and needles, the door slid open.

“I’m Dr. Shah,” a young, dark man said. “You’re Leonard McCoy?” Len nodded dumbly. “Great, jump on here and let’s take a look.”

Len sighed and got himself to standing, then sat at the edge of the bed. Dr. Shah glanced at the readings. “Ok, looks like you still have some alcohol in your system. Now it says here that we’re to put an Alcohol Monitoring and Deterrence System in place for you, which is going to make it so you cannot drink alcohol without becoming violently ill. Also, Starfleet will be instantly alerted and you will be sanctioned. So don’t do it.” He laughed like it was a joke.

Len might be a joke.

“I know how they work,” Len said, hoping to skip the lecture.

“You’ve had one before?”  
  
“Went to medical school.”

“Ah, well then, I’m going to have them bring you some food and put some holovids on. Let us know if you feel especially bad and we’ll treat the symptoms as we can.” The bracelet didn’t work as well after a sobriety hypo, so this was one hangover Len was going to have to face.

“How long until I’m out of here?”

“I’m conservative about these things, so you’ll be here for at least 24 hours, released sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

Ugh.

“Welcome to Starfleet!” the doctor said and left the room.

Food was brought and Len did his best to eat, but was only able to manage a few bites, his stomach wasn’t cooperating.

How long had it been since he’d been sober? Too long, he was starting to suspect. His head, which had been aching, was feeling worse.

Sleep didn’t come, but he did nod off now and then as the holovids droned on and on. He thought about turning them off, but silence seemed worse. When the constant beeping of the biobed got too annoying, he sat on the floor, his head against the cool metal of the door.

He heard someone dictating a chart, must be right outside his room. Probably a resident if they didn’t have their own office to escape to. “Patient presented with hives on both of her legs. Stated childhood allergies to ragweed, milk, and thistle. Prescribed antihistamine.”

Len scrunched his face. He shouldn’t have heard anything about the patient, but now that he had …. “Hey, Doctor?” he said through the door. “Doctor?”

“Yes? Hello?”

“You should do a full off-world allergy workup.”

“What?”

“Your patient probably spent time off-world, which is why she has those allergies back. She’s also probably developed allergies to whatever god-forsaken rock she was on now that she’s left that environment, too.”

“Uh, noted.” There was a click and a “Recommend full allergy work-up for on- and off-world allergies as well. To be completed no later than six months before off-world assignments.” There was another click. “Thanks,” the voice said, a little clearer.

“You’re welcome,” Len huffed. He had to keep everyone in line, even when he was a patient himself, figured.

After a long and indeterminable time, he was eventually brought what he assumed was breakfast, and the nurse confirmed that it was 0630. “We should have you out of here by 1400,” she said glancing at the PADD in her hand. She smiled at him. “You’ve missed a lot of nothing, standing in line getting schedules and uniforms and that sort of thing. You’ll probably have everything in your dorm room when we release you.”

“Thanks,” Len remembered to say. Dorm room, Christ.

After Len had picked at his food for a while and his tray was taken away, he was brought a sonic toothbrush, which was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. He was looking forward to getting to his dorm room just to take a shower.

Next to break up the holovid monotony was Dr. Shah again, for Len's Starfleet physical. Shah had him lay on the biobed and took some notes. “Ok, that should do it,” he said brightly. That was the worst physical Len had ever seen, and this was for people entering Starfleet, Starfleet that liked to send people into the deepest reaches of space.

He was left alone with the holovids again. He curled on his side, trying to find a position that might make his head hurt less. The door slid open and - to Len’s surprise - it was Pike. “Am I supposed to salute?” Len asked as he sat up on the bed. He didn’t know much of anything about military life.

“At ease,” Pike said and Len sat back minutely on the biobed.

“The nurses tell me that you’ve been a model patient, which I know is not easy for a doctor.”

Len didn’t know what to say to that, so he kept his mouth shut.

“I took the liberty of having a friend design your course schedule for your time here. Let me know if there are other courses that are of more interest to you and I’ll see if they work with your graduation requirements. I brought your uniforms, PADD with this semester’s course material, keycard, and schedule.” He gestured at the half-empty military duffle bag at his feet and held out a PADD with what was to be, apparently, Len's course schedule.

Len glanced at it without taking anything in.

“You could probably test out of the xenobiology course, but the professor who teaches it is one of the best, and will allow you a range of topics for your research paper, so I think you’ll get a lot out of it. Basic Leadership is the stepping stone to Advanced Leadership, which is something I like all of my CMOs to take.”

Len was surprised. “CMO?” Him?

“Yes, you have the skills we need to serve up there. But if you decide to stay down here, you’ll still have a full career. I need to check in with a few more people, so I’ll leave this with the rest of your personal belongings, and I’ll tell them to check out a medkit to you.”

“I’m not -”

“We both know the five minutes you have with a tricorder before emergency response gets to a scene can be a matter of life and death. As of now, you still have a medical license and the skills to go along with it. Emergencies only.”

A medkit would make him feel less naked, less useless. “Thank you, sir.”

Pike nodded and with a triple knock at the door, left.

Len laid back down and stared at the holovids for a while. He nibbled at his lunch and then brushed his teeth again. His hands were still shaking, his head throbbing.

The door slid open and an older man walked in, pulling a chair behind him. “Leonard McCoy? I’m Dr. Nishimura, call me Hiroji.”

“Hello.”

“I’m your therapist, and you have,” he tapped his PADD a few times, “60 days with the bracelet, which is going to be at least 10 sessions with me.” He tapped a few more times and then looked at Len. “How are you feeling today?”

“Crappy, as expected.”

“Do you want to talk about what it’s going to be like without alcohol for 60 days?”

Len glanced up at the various cameras. “Not really, and definitely not here.”

“This is all confidential medical information,” Hiroji said, eyebrows creasing.

“I’m gonna hopefully work here soon, no need to for anyone to overhear my dirty laundry.”

Hiroji nodded. “So if we met in my office, you would feel more candid?”

“Maybe.”

“Ok, fair enough.” He tapped a few more times. “I’m going to schedule you for an appointment for tomorrow, Monday afternoon, at 1530, that works with your classes.” Apparently everyone knew more about his schedule than Len. Hiroji passed Len a business card with his information. “Comm me if you are about to drink. We can put you back here and keep an eye on you.”

Len nodded. He knew what would happen if he did drink and wasn’t going to let that happen. He didn’t have any pockets so he set the card next to him.

“Ready for the bracelet? Righty or a lefty?”

Len stuck out his left arm and Hiroji put the silver bracelet around his wrist, pressing it closed. He glanced at his PADD. “Shirt off,” he said, and Len took his shirt off, remembering he hadn’t had a shower in days. Hiroji applied a small sensor on his back, near his right shoulder blade, stuck with a type of glue that wouldn’t come loose without a specific, patented glue dissolver. If the sensor sensed any level of alcohol in Len's bloodstream, it would immediately release an emetic, a drug that would make him vomit. It was two-fold system: he couldn’t get drunk if he threw up all of his alcohol, and it would make him feel awful enough he'd start to associate drinking and being violently ill. It was a last resort measure, but one that had proven to be effective. The monitoring bracelet would alert the clinic that Len had drank, and he’d probably be assigned more time, that’s usually how the system worked.

Len wasn’t going to drink, so he didn’t ask.

“I’ll replace the sensor at our weekly sessions, but this will do.” Hiroji clicked his PADD. “Ok, everything’s working. What symptoms are the worst for you right now?”

“Headache,” Len said.

“To be expected. Drink as much water as you can stomach and I’ll give you a hypo.” He pulled a hypo out of a case and Len tilted his head to give him access to his neck, and Hiroji administered it.

The relief was instant.

“Are you ready to get out of here?” Hiroji asked.

“Yeah,” Len said. Was he supposed to thank this man, a jailor? Len pulled his shirt back on and Hiroji held out his hand. “Welcome to San Francisco, Starfleet, and your new life.”

Len shook his hand. “Something like that.”

Hiroji rapped on the door and it slid open, and, feeling like a fugitive, Len was able to step outside. He followed Hiroji to the nurses’ station, and the nurse slid his stuff over in a box. He shoved his things into the larger canvas duffle bag Pike had left. He put on his jacket to hide his wrist and then his boots.

He hoisted the bag up on his shoulder and headed towards the elevator. He’d follow the exit signs until he was outside and hopefully could figure out where he was on his PADD.

He took the elevator to the ground floor, and as he stepped out, he heard a “Bones! Bones! Bones!”

It was Jim from the shuttle. “Hey, kid.”

“I tried to come visit like I said I would, I even said you were my fiancé, but they wouldn’t let me upstairs.”

“Your _fiancé_?”

Jim laughed. “I should have said brother, I guess.”

“I really don’t want to see my brother, better stick with fiancé.” Len winced. “Do you wanna get me to Jemison dormitory?” he asked glancing at the keycard Pike had left him.

“I’m in Jemison, too,” Jim said. “It must be the worst dorm if they put us late recruits in it.”

“I wouldn’t doubt that for a moment.” They walked out of the clinic and Len’s eyes watered in the bright sun.

“I hate hospitals,” Jim said. “Why’d they keep you so long? I leave AMA as soon as I can.”

“Got one of these,” Len said, holding his wrist out. He’d figured he wouldn’t tell anyone about the damned alcohol bracelet, but here he was telling the first person he talked to.

Jim whistled. “Rough,” he said touching it once. “There’s a emergency code you can put in if you need to. It’s been a requirement for the last five years.”

“I know, kid,” Len said as they turned at the side of the building. “Doctor, remember?”

“Right, right,” Jim said. “That’s us over there.”

Two buildings over, and close to the clinic, that was useful. Len would hopefully have a lot of hours to work, once he was done with probation. If he was allowed probation.

“How’s your schedule?” Len asked, not sure how to talk to people without being a doctor, without Jocelyn to do the smalltalk, without alcohol.

“Fucking awesome!” Jim said and he was off. He was taking a a lot of courses, trying to graduate early, in three years, same as Len, but Len was starting with an MD and PhD already. Jim was seemingly interested in everything, jumping from topic to topic.

“What track are you?” Len interrupted.

“Er, Command,” Jim said. “Go big or go home.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” They were at their dorm and Jim showed Len how to use his keycard to get into the building. Len had a ground level room at the back of the building. He used the code from Pike to get into the room and he was greeted by, well, a dorm room. A bed, a wardrobe, a desk and chair, and a small counter replicator and, thankfully, a private bathroom. It looked liked it had been used for married housing, with a double bed and a couch instead of two single beds.

“No roommates!” Jim said looking around, awestruck.

“Perks of having graduated at least once before, if I had to guess,” Len said. “What did you end up with?”

“Quad on the top floor. Same size as this room, two bathrooms for the whole floor.”

That was Len’s second-biggest nightmare, after flying. Len shook his head in sympathy. He’d only had to deal with one roommate for a couple of years, and that had been bad enough. “Want me to take a look at your face?”

“No, I’m fine,” Jim said. “I’ll have to have a physical in a couple of weeks anyway, so if it still hurts then, I’ll have it checked out.”

“So it hurts now.”

Jim looked guilty. “I did get in a fight.” His hands were clenched tight.

Len held up his hands. “I’m not even a doctor right now, but they let me have a medical kit with a tricorder. How about I make sure that tricorder is working by doing a quick scan, completely offline, no records.”

Jim seemed to ease at that, and Len directed him to the couch.

The tricorder confirmed what Len could see, a few contusions on his face and knuckles, but nothing major or permanent. He started the concussion protocol, despite it being so long after the fact. He fished around in his medical kit until he found small dermal regenerator, and started with Jim’s hands.

Jim’s blood pressure was elevated and climbing, enough that the tricorder dinged.

“Don’t like doctors?” Len asked lightly. He’d seen that plenty times.

“Not really.” It was a terse answer from someone that seemed so loquacious.

Len flipped the tricorder around so Jim could read it, not that Jim would necessarily know much about what was displayed. “That’s your blood pressure. You were a 120/85 when we started, that’s a good place to be, but it’s been slowly climbing as you sit here. That ding was when you hit 140/90. It’s a little high, but nothing I’m worried about right now.”

“Oh,” Jim said. He started intently at the tricorder. “That’s my temperature, what’s that?”

Len glanced down. “Heartbeat, but Vulcan time standard because I just got it out of the box.”

Jim laughed.

Len shrugged. “It was speciesist to having everything set to earth and human, so now you have to fiddle with it.” He glanced down and Jim’s blood pressure had leveled off, good. “Want me to heal your face?”

Jim paused a moment too long. “I guess so.”

Len used the world’s slowest dermal regenerator and was able to get Jim looking as good as new, which was, in Len’s opinion, quite good.

Jim mumbled a thank you and offered to show Len around campus and where his classes would be starting the next day, and Len agreed. They walked around campus and Len was happy Jim was able to talk with little assistance from Len. 

They made it to the cafeteria right before it closed. Jim stared at his meal card and then looked at the replicator. “I have some allergies that aren’t coded.”

Len had a lecture about untreated allergies he decided to skip. “You know something safe?”

“Right,” Jim said and went through a couple menus to get to an apple.

Len wasn’t hungry and nothing sounded good, so he ordered a croissant, and followed Jim to a small table near the back. Len picked at his croissant with shaking hands and Jim talked about classes. He apparently had started the reading for his courses already. It was the sort of thing Len had done as a medical student, but he didn’t have the energy for that tonight. He wanted a shower and to crawl in bed, honestly.

And a glass of bourbon, too, dammit.

 

***

 

The next morning, a knock on the door woke Len early. It was Jim, already in his cadet reds, showered, and wide awake.

“Lost my comm, can I borrow your PADD for a sec?”

Len pointed towards his PADD on the small counter. “How did you manage to lose your comm before classes even start?” He started pushing buttons on the replicator, hoping he could get some coffee.

“Lost, stolen, hard to say.” Jim was typing furiously. “Crap, it’s turned off.” He shook his head. “It’s fine, I met someone that works in IT and I bet she can help me get a new one without having to report this one as missing.” He typed a bit longer, then turned it off. 

“You should probably report it.” Len’s hands were shaking too much to use the screwdriver and he tossed it down in frustration. He’d go find coffee somewhere else and deal with the replicator some other day.

“I can handle it,” Jim said. He eyed the screwdriver and picked it up. “Here, let me take a look,” and damned if he didn’t have the replicator turning on in a few moments, coffee dripping out soon after. At least Len still had coffee, because even crappy replicated coffee was still coffee.

It was all downhill from that replicated coffee.

The first day of classes was always boring. Every professor emphasized how much work they were going to be doing for this, the most important class of their schooling, yawn. Len dutifully made sure all the exams and papers were in his calendar.

He was ten minutes early to his counseling appointment with Hiroji and sat in the waiting room, jiggling his leg. Hiroji called him back to a small, minimalist office precisely on time.

“Leonard,” he said warmly and gestured him to a seat, taking the seat on the other side of the table. “How are you?”

“Fine, made it to classes today.”

They talked about classes some, Hiroji making sure Len was ready for the fast pace and high intensity of Starfleet.

“So when we met at the clinic yesterday, you said you’d feel more comfortable talking here as opposed to there.”

“Yeah,” Len said. How long was this appointment?

“Ok, you seem to think that alcohol isn’t a problem for you?”

Finding the right words was harder than Len thought it would be. “I went through a bad patch, didn’t have anything else, figured I might as well drink.”

Hiroji nodded, but didn’t say anything else. Len used this tactic enough himself as a doctor. “My dad died, my wife left me and took my kid, and then I showed up drunk to a surgery and lost my job.” Len shrugged. “I had nothing left. Alcohol made it better.”

Hiroji nodded. “Any one of those things would be a lot to deal with. It sounds like we’ll work on healthy coping mechanisms, so when you get the bracelet off, you won’t turn to alcohol when things get bad. Because, Leonard, things always get bad.”

Fair enough. “Don’t I know it.”

Hiroji glanced at a clock. “Ok, on a scale of 1 to 5, how much have you wanted a drink since getting to campus?”

“Maybe a 3 or 4,” Len said. “But as a habit. When I was walking around campus and in classes, I wasn’t thinking about drinking.” 

“How’s the detoxing?”

Len held out his hands that were still shaking.

“Any other symptoms?”

“Slept like shit. Headache.”

“That’ll happen. Basic training ought to help the sleeping. Make sure you’re laying down for sleep at an appropriate time every night, and if you’re not doing better next week, we can talk about other techniques. How’s eating going?” Len winced. “I figured. You have two goals this week: make sure you’re going to bed at the same time each night, and eat three times a day, and I’d like that to be breakfast, lunch and dinner. How’s that sound?”

“Easy enough a child can do it.”

“Well, as they say, baby steps.”

They shook hands and Hiroji reminded Len to ping him if Len was getting desperate for a drink.

Len left feeling … ok. It hadn’t been terrible or anything, and Hiroji was just telling him a bunch of stuff that Len already knew; he was a doctor for Christ’s sake.

He realized he hadn’t eaten that day, and headed back to his room, hoping he’d find Jim and they could go to the cafeteria again together. Three meals a day; he hadn’t done that in years.

He needn’t have worried about finding Jim as Jim was sitting outside Len’s door, reading his PADD. Jim beamed at him as he got closer.

“Hey, kid,” Len said and unlocked the door as Jim bounded up from the ground.

“Sorry, I thought you’d be home by now and my roommates were being, well, there. How were your classes?” And then he was off talking a mile a minute about warp theory or something over Len's head.

Len peeled his cadet reds off and pulled on his old sweats. “I’m supposed to eat. You wanna go to the caf with me?” Crap, Len was bad at this whole social interaction thing.

“ _Supposed_ to eat?”

Jim was too attentive by far. “Requirement from my therapist. I’ve been getting most of my calories from booze lately, so I gotta get back on track.” And that other thing. “You get those allergies looked at yet?”

“Not yet.” Jim made a face. “When are you going to be a doctor again?”

“Pike said there will be a hearing in a few months to determine how bad I fucked up. I guess I’ll find out then.”

“How bad _did_ you fuck up?”

Why was Len even telling this kid all of this? “I showed up to a surgery drunk. Got scrubbed in and everything before I realized I couldn’t do it. Walked out of the hospital and signed my divorce papers. I probably should have lost my license, but I took the first train out of town and haven’t dealt with it yet.”

“So you didn’t actually operate?”

“No, came damned close.” Too close.

“One bad thing doesn’t always have to affect your life forever.”

“Maybe it should.”

Jim borrowed some sweats from Len again and they left the room and headed to the cafeteria. Jim spent some time at the replicator, trying to find things he could eat. Len scrolled through list after list before finally deciding he could manage toast with strawberry jam.

Jim had some sort of soup that didn’t look appetizing, but Len didn’t comment. Jim waved hello at a few people, how did he already know so many of their classmates? Len ate most of his toast and Jim ate his soup and without discussing it, they put their trays back and headed to Len’s room. Jim followed him in and sprawled on the couch.

“I know these rooms are bigger than what we’ll get on a starship, but is it wrong if I hate being around my roommates so much?”

“They probably thought they were going to have an extra bunk until you waltzed off the shuttle, give them a couple days to adjust.”

“Yeah, and the Kirk thing.”

“Kirk thing?”

“My father? He’s famous, so people assume that I get everything easier, haven’t earned it.”

James fucking Kirk, holy shit. “ _Kelvin_ disaster?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Jim looked nervous.

“Either you’ll cut it here or you won’t, famous dad or not.” Len sighed inwardly. “And you can sleep on the couch whenever you want.”

Jim looked unbalanced, but then a schooled his features into a grin. “Not going to invite me to share that big bed of yours? I’m _fantastic_ in bed.”

Len could see the bluster from a mile away. “I don’t doubt it, kid, but I’m too old for you.” And too fucked up by far.

“I have had great sex with people twice as old as you.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Len rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t make it a good idea.”

 

***

 

Len made it through the week: a week of classes, a week without alcohol, a week spending more time with Jim than without. Jim had tried to get Len to go out Friday night, but Len wasn't interested, wasn't ready. Jim had offered to stay in with Len, but Len had insisted Jim go out and have fun, so Jim had gone.

Saturday morning, as Len was leaving for the library to do some studying, he found Jim passed out in front of his door, looking worse for the wear, two black eyes and a some pretty deep scrapes on his hands and arms. With his heart in his throat, he rolled Jim to his back and shook his shoulder. “Jim! Jim! I need you to open your eyes.”

He was rewarded by one vividly blue eye opening and blinking at him. “I’m fine,” Jim said as he rolled to his side to cough.

Len grabbed his med kit from his side and started scanning. He wouldn’t describe Jim as “fine,” but he wasn’t dying either. He helped Jim to the couch.

“Sorry I missed your knock.” He should give Jim his room code so this didn't happen again.

“I didn’t knock,” Jim said, clutching his ribs. “I was drunk and I know you’re” - he gestured to Len’s wrist with the alcohol band - “so I figured I’d be sobered up when you found me.”

Len was kneeling in front of Jim, trying to asses his ribs with the stone age technology he had available to him in his basic medkit. “I’m a doctor,” he said looking up at Jim’s face. “You let me treat you when you need it, not when you think I can handle it.”

Jim stared at him for a minute.

“This is where you say ‘Leonard, I’m going to knock on your door next time and not be some sort of a damned idiot.’”

Jim laughed. “Your bedside manner sucks.”

Len was carefully pulling off Jim’s boots, mindful of a gash he knew was somewhere on Jim’s left calf. “You aren’t the first person to tell me that, you know.”

 

***

 

Len settled into a routine, but he couldn’t say he liked it. He was more out of shape than he’d ever been in his life and basic training was pretty much kicking his ass. On the plus side, it did help him sleep, sometimes. His classes were going ok. He was eating several times a day. Therapy was a thing that happened weekly.

“Part of the reason you ‘feel like shit,’” Hiroji said, using Len’s words back at him as he was wont to do, “is both because you’re learning to function without a depressant in your system and because you’re having to now deal with all of the emotions you didn’t deal with while you were drinking. You’re going to have anger and sadness about your marriage, grief about your father, and probably embarrassment for all of the dumb stuff you said when you were drunk.”

Len knew all this, but it was tough to _live_ all this. “I need to stop being a dick to everyone.” He’d been terrible to his lab partner that afternoon, a bright young woman named Kaede, for being slightly squeamish her first time cutting open a cadaver.

“Yes, you do. Break the cycle now. When you find yourself ‘being a dick,’ acknowledge it, apologize, change. You’re not magically going to wake up one day and be the perfect coworker, friend, and student. You need to work on it every time you notice.”

Len sighed.

“It’ll come back to you and be habit soon enough. But you have to start.”

Len sighed again.

“Well, let’s get your sensor changed,” Hiroji said. As Len took his shirt off, Hiroji put a combination into the safe in the corner of his room to get out the solvent that would remove the glue on the sensor.

“This will be a little cold,” Hiroji said and Len could feel Hiroji slowly pulling the sensor off. “No signs of redness or irritation, good.” Hiroji placed the old sensor on a tray and Len could feel where he stuck the new one, a few inches away from the site of the first one. Len put his shirt back on and Hiroji pecked at his PADD to make sure the sensor and bracelet were communicating properly.

“You’re doing good,” Hiroji said as Len was standing to leave. “You’re figuring out what sort of person you want to be without alcohol.”

Len fucking hoped so.

He left the office and paused to send a comm to Kaede. “Sorry about lab. I’ll try to be less of an ass next time.”

He let out the breath he’d been carrying.

 

***

 

It took a few weeks for Len to be put on the clinic rotation, and as the new recruit he’d gotten the shifts no one else wanted, a shift Friday night and then a double Saturday night. He didn’t mind. It wasn’t like he going to have plans on Friday or Saturday night anyway.

After a long week of classes and basic training, he reported to the clinic for the start of his volunteer hours. He thought he’d be restocking supplies or maybe mopping floors, but after a five-minute tour of the place, the harried on-shift doctor shoved a short white coat at him and told him to start taking patient medical histories and doing physicals. The doctor would have to sign off on everything Len did, but Len was ok with that if it meant at least sort of being a doctor again. It had been too long.

Len grabbed the next PADD on the pile and called out the name and started working. Dammit if he was going to let any patient of his go into the black without Len doing everything he could planet-side to protect them. He ordered off-world allergy tests, sent cadets with old injuries to physical therapy sessions, and double-checked current medications to make sure they matched the list of medications available on starships.

He worked steadily through his Friday night shift, and wasn’t surprised to find Jim asleep on the couch when he returned. He checked Jim’s face and hands and it didn’t appear that he’d been in a fight, good. He pulled a blanket from the closet and laid it over Jim before falling into his own bed.

By the time he woke up late Saturday morning, Jim was gone, blanket folded neatly over the back of the couch. Len was surprised how much that one thing made the whole room feel lived in. He grabbed lunch and a big coffee from the cafeteria and returned to his room to finally put his belongings away. This wasn’t a shitty motel he’d be staying in until he felt like it was time to leave, this was going to be his home for the next three years.

He threw all of the clothes on the floor in the refresher, then shined his boots and shoes the way his daddy had taught him and put them away. When the clothes were clean, he hung his civilian clothes on one side of the wardrobe, his red cadet uniforms and his dress uniform to the other side. There was a second wardrobe and he put Jim’s uniforms and the clothes he borrowed the most often there, too.

His room felt better at least, but he was exhausted. He wanted to comm Jim. He wanted to take a nap. He wanted a drink.

He tried to study, but couldn’t concentrate. He only had to get through the next few hours before starting his double-shift at the clinic. He pressed his hands to his eyes. A couple of hours, that was nothing. He looked at one of the brochures Hiroji had given him with suggestions of things to do when he wanted a drink. Most of it sounded pretty terrible. Taking a walk might help. Or might give him more of a chance to think about drinking.

He took a shower, commed Jim that he was heading in for a double-shift and if he wanted Len to do his physical, anytime in the next 18 hours would be fine. Len pulled on his cadet reds since he wasn’t wearing a doctor’s coat and headed to the clinic a couple hours early.

His second night was the same as his first. He did a lot more physicals. As the cadets getting physicals dwindled, cadets involved in drunk mishaps started ramping up. The shift doctor was the same as the night before and happy to let Len do the dirty work and signed off on everything without more than a glance at the PADD Len showed him.

It’s not how Len would run things, but then again, it was mostly physicals and busted knuckles, stuff he could do in his sleep.

After about 0200, the clinic was deserted and the shift doctor said he was going to nap in the on-call room, and to get him if anything “interesting” came in. Len took the lull to start going over lab results he’d ordered with the physicals, adding the information to the patients’ charts and noting his suggestions. To be signed off by a real doctor, of course.

But he could do this, he could keep working and keep helping people and it shouldn’t hurt so much that he needed his work signed off on by a doctor who was younger than Len. This was a good choice, hard work now to pay off later.

The clinic remained empty so he kept working. A few hours later, an older doctor in scrubs, no visible name tag, took a seat across from the table where Len was going through lab results. He sat a cup of coffee at Len’s elbow, and Len nodded his appreciation.

“You’re McCoy?” he asked.

“In the flesh,” Len answered. He looked up from the chart he was working on. Be respectful, he reminded himself. “Can I help you?”

“Just came to see the reason why my hospital ordered more lab tests last night than in the previous four weeks combined.”

“Because your doctors are lazy,” Len growled. Well, so much for being respectful. “I’m not sending any kid out into space without them being as prepared as I can get them.”

The doctor gave him an appraising glance. “What are my numbers?” he asked. “How many allergy tests have you run with how many positive results?”

That was the sort of thing he used to do without thinking. “Sorry, I haven’t been keeping track.”

“Let’s look now,” the doctor said, and they sorted the PADDs in two piles. “Ok, so around 10% of cadets are testing positive for off-world allergies.” He looked contemplative. “But that doesn’t mean that they’ll ever come in contact with those allergens. The away teams are usually pretty small and the majority of the crew stays on the ship most of the time.”

“Your medic beams down to some pollen-infested planet and then your engineering kid passes him in the hall later and has an asthma attack and no one thinks to test for allergies since the engineering kid wasn’t planet-side.”

“That sounds plausible. You’ve spent time off-world, I take it.”

Len laughed dryly. “Not a chance. Aviophobia.”

“Shame, we could use more doctors like you up there.” The man took a sip of his coffee. “So you have your hearing scheduled with the Medical Board in about four months. I’m going to see if I can get that moved ahead a bit, get you back seeing your own patients, and back in the OR.”

“What?”

“I know a few people, let’s get this hearing over and done with, right?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Philip Boyce,” he said extending a hand.

Well, crap. Len was just an ass to the Director of Starfleet Medical. “I’m sorry, I should have asked earlier.” How could he fix this? “I’ve been reading your papers on Vulcan surgery modifications, and they’ve been enlightening.”

Boyce smiled at him. “And that’s why we need to get you back into the OR.” He stood, Len thanked him again for the coffee. Len tried to go back to updating charts, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the Medical Board hearing.

 

***

 

Boyce was true to his word and Len got a comm that his Medical Board hearing would be in the Johnson Administration Building on campus in ten days.

Ten days.

Ten.

Len had gotten the comm between classes, and found that he couldn’t concentrate at all in his basic leadership class. Ten days. Ten days and he would find out if he was allowed to be a doctor again.

He made it through class somehow. He commed Jim to see about dinner, but Jim apologized and said he was stuck in a flight sim for the next four hours. Shit. He walked to the building where he met with Hiroji, and found Hiroji as he was locking the door.

“Let’s talk,” Hiroji said glancing at Len’s face and unlocking the door. They didn’t go to the office, but sat in the waiting room on chairs across from each other, anachronistic paper magazines piled between them.

“I can tell you’re not ok, do you know why?”

“They moved my hearing for ten days.”

“The one that was going to be in four months?” Hiroji at least looked surprised.

“I ran into Dr. Boyce and he said he was going to see if he could have it moved, but I wasn’t expecting ten days.”

“Dr. Boyce!” Hiroji looked surprised again. “If he’s in your corner, I don’t think you have much to worry about.” His face turned back into his neutral therapist face. “What’s the difference between ten days and four months?”

Len help up his wrist with the alcohol bracelet. “In four months, I was going to be able to prove that I’m not a drunk anymore. Now I’m just a washed out doctor who’s made it to some freshman-level classes on time.”

“Dr. Boyce must believe in you,” Hiroji said. They talked some more, Hiroji giving Len tips on how to deal with the stress and anxiety. When Len realized he’d taken up far more time than he expected, he apologized.

“This is what I’m here for,” Hiroji assured him. “How do you feel now? If you need a drink at a 5 level, we can do voluntary observation, and I can check in with you in the morning.”

“I do feel better.” Len took a deep breath. “I don’t need a drink.”

“That’s right. Go eat dinner. Study for your classes tomorrow. If you need me, comm me anytime, ok? And before you touch alcohol, the right choice is observation. That’s why it’s there.”

Len nodded and headed back to his dorm, grabbing toast on the way. He did his best to study and was inordinately relieved when Jim got back after his flight sim.

Jim gave an abridged version of the flight he’d helmed. Len was barely paying attention. Jim sat next to him. “You ok?” he asked.

Len told him about the Medical Board hearing in ten days.

“What time?” Jim asked.

“You can’t go in,” Len said. “It’s closed. Just me, the reviewing board members, and a representative from Starfleet, if I had to guess.”

“I’ll wait in the hall or outside the front door or wherever,” Jim said.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Jim said. 

 

***

 

Classes were a blur. Len tried to focus, but anxiety kept him from sleeping.

Hiroji suggested yoga class, which helped only momentarily. After a few days, Hiroji prescribed a small sedative to help Len sleep, so Len was at least getting a few hours of chemically-derived sleep a night.

Jim tried to keep him occupied, making sure they spent a lot of their free time together, having his friends sit with Len at meals, putting on funny holovids at night.

It helped a little.

The night before the hearing, though, nothing helped. Len tossed and turned all night, and eventually gave up at 0400 and turned his PADD on. Jim crawled into bed with him and they watched vids until it was time to report to the Johnson Administrative building for the hearing.

“Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it,” Jim told him. “These people would be idiots to see you’re not a great doctor.”

Len raised an eyebrow at him. “So far I’ve fixed your knuckles a couple of times, I’m not sure you’re an expert.”

“Well, I have read all of your published papers, and I hate you less than any doctor I’ve had in my entire life.”

Len rolled his eyes, but Jim had, at least momentarily, made him feel better.

 

***

 

“Cadet McCoy, please wait in the hallway while the Committee makes its decision.” Len stood on shaky legs, hoping it wasn’t a bad sign they hadn’t called him _doctor_ , and left the conference room Starfleet had set up for the hearing. Jim was waiting in the hallway with a cup of coffee.

“How’s it going?” he asked, passing the cup over.

Len sank into the uncomfortable chair. “No idea, kid,” he said. He felt something tight and hot in his chest, like any word was about to come out a sob.

He wanted a drink. He took a sip of his coffee. He took a deep breath, counted to four, and released it slowly. “They asked a lot of questions, but I couldn’t get a read on the room.” He passed his coffee back to Jim and buried his head in his hands, lightly tugging on his hair. “I thought I wasn’t ever going to be a doctor again, and I was ok with that. Now that I might be a doctor and they could take it away? I wish Pike had left me in Iowa.”

Jim rubbed a hand on his back. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Was Len crying? This was a hell of a time for his emotions to start back. He blamed Hiroji in the back of his head, like it was Hiroji explaining what was going on in Len’s brain that had caused this.

They sat like that for a while, Len’s hitched breathing as he tried not to cry, and Jim rubbing his back. The hallway remained silent and empty as Len’s fate was decided behind closed doors.

The door opened and the clerk stuck his head out. “Cadet McCoy’s presence is requested,” he said flatly.

Len stood up and Jim stood with him and wiped a tear off his cheek and smoothed Len’s hair and straightened his uniform. “Good luck, Bones,” he said, giving a gentle push on Len’s shoulder.

Len nodded and took a deep breath and went in to hear his fate. He took his seat at the table with Boyce and Pike, and looked up at the Board members on the dias.

“Thank you for your patience,” the Medical Board representative said. “We have discussed your case, and come to a conclusion. The Medical Board is in agreement that while what Doctor McCoy did was not to the standard we hold our doctors, it was also not an issue that requires revocation of his license.” She peered down at Len from behind her glasses; Len sagged in his chair, hoping he had understood correctly. “Due to his status as a cadet at Starfleet, we will hand his case over to Starfleet Medical, with the following recommendations. We recommend a further 60 days with the alcohol bracelet, and a gradual reintroduction of his medical privileges. Dr. Boyce has volunteered to take responsibility for Dr. McCoy and as such this case is closed for the Medical Board and all further dealings should be addressed to Starfleet Medical and Dr. Boyce.”

Boyce leaned forward. “Thank you to the Board.” Boyce stood and shook hands with the three Board members, and they all walked out together. Pike clapped Len on the shoulder - Len who was still sitting there numbly - and Pike followed the rest of the group to the hallway. Len heard Pike say something, probably to Jim, and in moments, Jim was there giving him a hug.

“Pike says you’re a doctor!” Jim was enthusiastic.

“Yeah,” Len said.

Jim took a step back to look Len in the face. “Ok, let’s get you back to your room?” Len nodded and Jim helped him to his feet. They made their way out of the building and across campus to their dorm.

“I’m going to shower,” Len said.

“Leave the door unlocked so I can check on you, ok?” Jim said.

Len took his clothes off piece by piece and left them on the floor. He turned the water on hot and stepped in. After staring at the shampoo that wasn’t his for a moment, he slid to the floor and with the water falling over his head, he finally let go all of the tension he’d been carrying for days - weeks? months? years? - and sobbed and sobbed into his arms. When he couldn’t cry anymore, he reached up and turned the water off. Jim was there in moments with a couple of towels, handing them over silently. He sat on the toilet while Len dried his hair and then Jim helped him to his feet.

“I made dinner. By dinner I mean sandwiches. By sandwiches I mean replicated toast.” Jim guided Len to his bed and Len sat. “And while you were in the shower, this was dropped off.” Len looked at the bottle in Jim’s hand, a fancy bottle of Arnold Palmer. Jim handed him the attached note.

“Congratulations, Doctor. C. Pike.”

Len handed the card over for Jim to read. “I can’t believe Pike sent you a gift!”

“Well, if I had fucked up, his gamble on me being here wouldn’t have paid off.”

“That’s cynical even for you,” Jim said. He jumped up to grab glasses and the toast and they ate together in bed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Len said. “But good.”

He’d been excused from his classes for the day for the hearing, so in his exhaustion, he let Jim pull up a blanket and set a glass of water next to him. The last thing that happened before Len fell asleep was a ping from Boyce telling Len to report for rounds at 0500 on Monday morning.


	2. And all my time is yours as much as mine

Len was at rounds at 0400 on Monday morning, reading the charts for all of Boyce’s patients. Len had completed his residency at the busiest hospital in the Georgia, so he wasn’t too concerned about keeping up, but he didn’t want to fuck up on his first day, either. He had a cup of coffee and reviewed the eleven PADDs the night nurse had handed to him, making a few notes here and there.

Boyce showed up at 0500 precisely. “Ready?” he asked.

“Just me?”

“Sure are,” he answered. “I hope you weren’t counting on others to pick up your slack.”

“I’ll do my best,” Len said, and with that they were walking briskly down the hall, checking on Boyce’s patients. After they finished, Boyce called up Len’s schedule and then brought up the weekly surgery schedule on the wall.

“I need to get you assisting on surgeries so I can release you into the wilds of Starfleet Medical.”

Len took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

“I know, son,” Boyce said smiling.

 

***

 

It took a few more days, but Len knew the moment his doctor privileges officially started at the clinic, because his PADD started pinging with over hundred communications, the worst part about his career path.

He put his PADD on silent, and started working through the backlog over a working lunch in his room. Most was junk - he hadn’t taken anyone’s lunch from the fridge - but one caught his attention: Complete Medical History of James Tiberius Kirk.

He clicked and started reading. Normal childhood, a bit spotty after age five or so, not that unusual. He would have assumed Jim’s mother being Starfleet would have made her vigilant about routine doctor visits for her child, but if she was off-world, that might explain it. Age 13, a couple extra vaccinations. Then pages and pages of being treated on a [redacted] Starfleet ship … Tarsus IV. He shook his head and checked again. Jim’s name and identification number, and Tarsus IV.

Tarsus.

Tarsus. Len had goosebumps. Tarsus was some colony planet that no one had heard about until the governor went crazy and executed half the population. Jim had been there? It explained his allergies and probably his reluctance of doctors and maybe much more of what Len didn’t understand about Jim.

He knew Jim didn’t want him to know, but now that he did … well, the cat was out of the bag.

He heard the door slide open and Jim’s cheerful “Hiya, Bones!”

Len swiveled in his seat. “You probably want to see this.” He handed the PADD over to Jim.

It only took Jim a few seconds to figure it out. “That is supposed to be sealed.” His lips were a tight line, and Len pulled him down to sitting next to him on the couch.

“I think it’s a combination of my Starfleet clearance and you assigning me as your primary doctor and being over the age of 18,” Len said. “I’ll talk to Boyce and see who has access and see what we can do.”

“Thanks,” Jim said weakly.

This was the part where Len didn’t know what to do. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

Jim shook his head. 

 

***

 

Len talked to Boyce about Jim’s medical records the next time they were alone together. Boyce didn’t give anything away, so Len couldn’t tell if he was already aware that Jim had been on Tarsus.

“Make a summary of the relevant medical information, and I’ll talk to Chris, and maybe Archer?” Boyce said, thinking out loud.

“Already commed the summary to you,” Len said.

 

***

 

After a week of gentle reminders, Jim finally showed up to the clinic during Len’s hours, the Saturday overnight shift. Len had told Jim the place was usually deserted, and it was, especially with Jim waiting for the tail end of Len’s shift.

Jim slunk in with none of his usual swagger; it was like a light switch had been flipped to off.

“Come on,” Len said and motioned him to the exam room in the back. Jim laid on the biobed and Len recorded the measurements, with a note that the high blood pressure was due to anxiety in hospital settings.

“Any complaints?”

“Nope.”

“How’s basic training been going?”

“Top of my class.”

“Sleeping?”

Jim took an actual second to think about it. “Actually, better than in Iowa. The nights in your room. It’s hard to sleep in my assigned room. Are you going to ask me about my sexual health?”

Len looked Jim square in the eye. “How’s your sex life?”

Jim grinned, cocky and sure. “You could find out.”

Well, there it was. Despite wanting to list every quality he had that had made him a terrible husband, he ground out, “Not anytime soon.”

Jim looked delighted.

Len decided to take a page out of Jim’s book and change the subject. “Any reason why didn’t you have these allergies fixed as a kid?” he asked lightly.

Jim chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “So my mom was off-world a lot and me and Sam were left with Frank - my mom’s husband - and my allergies were complicated enough the doctor said we needed to go to the Mayo Clinic, which is up in Minnesota, and Frank said I wasn’t worth the drive.”

“Was Frank the one that broke your arm?” Len asked, looking at the more in-depth readings the biobed was recording. Jim had a few breaks that looked like they’d healed on their own, not with the help of an osteo-regenerator.

“No, that was from falling from hayloft. He just, uh, said I was fine and stop my bitching.” 

Len raised an eyebrow at Jim. Jim shrugged. “Frank was an asshole, but he mostly ignored us. It sucked but I had Sam.”

“Where’s Sam now?”

“Don’t know,” Jim said. “Once were were back on Earth, you know, _after_ , he met a girl. They left Iowa the day he turned 18 and I’ve only got a couple of pings from him since.”

“Tough.”

“He moved on, I’m happy for him.” Jim shrugged. 

But how much had Jim been able to move on? 

"Don't look at me like that," Jim said. "I'm fine."

"That's what I tell my therapist every week," Len said. "It's sometimes true." 

Jim laughed, just fucking laughed. " _Sometimes_ for me, too."

“Ok, kid, I’m going to order every allergy test we have and see what we’re dealing with.”

Jim winced.

Len put his hand on Jim’s knee. “Listen, they’re not going to let you off-world, let alone command your own ship with these allergies. The way I see it, I have three years to fix ‘em.”

“If they don’t know, they can’t ground me.”

“I’m not turning a blind eye so the first time you go on a new planet you end up breathing some weird flower pollen and dying of asphyxiation.”

Jim gave him small smile.

Len quickly typed his notes into the PADD. “You’re cleared for Starfleet Academy and we’ll work on the allergies.”

Jim glanced at his comm. “It’s time for you to be off, ready to head home?”

Len knew Jim would be emotionally exhausted from being in the clinic. “Yeah, give me five to make sure all of my charts are updated and talk to the incoming doc.” Jim was already off the biobed.

There wasn’t much to fill in the next shift’s doctor, and Len was able to finish everything he needed to do in a short amount of time. He collected Jim from outside the doors and they walked home in the pre-dawn light.

Len was tired, he’d been up for over 24 hours. As soon as he walked through the door, he started stripping off his clothes and crawled into bed. He glanced over and Jim was sitting on the couch, looking off. Jim had probably been up just as long, and he had to think about his past and what was Len supposed to do?

“You can sleep over here if you want,” Len said, throwing the blankets back and scooting himself closer to the wall and telling the lights to turn off. His eyes were already closed when he felt Jim get in next to him. Jim pressed his forehead against the back of Len's neck and they laid there like that for a while, breathing together. 

"Ever since Tarsus, I categorize people into two groups," Jim said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Those that would fight against Kodos and those that would go along with him." He paused. "You would have helped us." 

Len turned so they where laying face to face. "I don't know, Jimmy. I'd like to think that I'm that kind of person, but when life goes to shit, who knows?"

Jim touched Len's cheek. "I know you."

Len hoped he could be half the man Jim Kirk thought he was. 

***

 

Len started researching allergies and how to treat them. Honestly, he’d started when Jim had mentioned that he had “some” allergies, just to make sure he could check on whatever course of treatment Jim would get, but now that Len was Jim’s primary doctor, it was up to Len to figure out the best course of treatment. Jim was a complicated and complex case, starting with his allergies to the anti-allergy medications in use. Len was first going to have to treat Jim’s allergies to those medications, and then work on the rest of it. Three years might not be enough time.

Len didn’t trust the findings from the published studies, and needed to look at the methods and data and see what conclusions he could draw on his own. He started spending all of his spare time looking at papers and articles from the past hundred years.

After a couple weeks of this, he realized he wasn’t getting through the information fast enough, so after his Saturday overnight clinic shift, he grabbed a stim and went straight to the library, working all day Sunday. He made it home late on Sunday night, slept for a few hours and went to class.

He had his weekly appointment with Hiroji that afternoon, what a waste of time these days. Hiroji asked how classes were, eating, clinic shifts, social life. Len answered him automatically. Everything was fine.

“You’re looking tired,” Hiroji said at the end of their appointment. “I want to make sure you’re handling everything ok.”

Everything was fine! Len could use a couple more hours a day for research, but he was a doctor and a student, he was supposed to be tired. “I’m fine,” Len said.

“Ok,” Hiroji said. “Remember it’s ok to be not ok.”

Len held back an eye roll, and Hiroji started getting ready to change his sensor. Len hadn’t even thought about drinking lately, so he must be fine.

 

***

 

Len skipped a couple of classes to keep researching. He’d taken them before, so he wasn’t missing anything. He started using a stim or two at night to get in more research time, making sure he was going to the classes he needed to and his clinic shifts. He sent off for a few papers written in foreign languages to be translated.

If he was going to inject Jim with something that could kill him, Len was going to damn well have done everything he could to minimize the risk, and that meant reading every single thing he could on the subject.

The weekend meant no classes and more time for research. He made it through his clinic shifts with more stims, more coffee. When the weekend ended, he felt like he’d made some progress.

He grabbed a couple hours of sleep Sunday night, and when he woke Monday morning, he saw some of the articles he needed translated had been sent back to him already, so he skipped his Monday classes to get started on those. When he alarm chirped to remind him to go to therapy, he was tempted to skip that as well, but decided it wasn’t worth the hassle of rescheduling his sensor replacement.

He was a few minutes late, and Hiroji was waiting for him in the office. Hiroji didn’t say anything but slid a printout of Len’s absences the past few weeks.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Hiroji was using a gentle voice, like Len would use to calm a horse.

Len had an explanation; everything was fine. “I told you that one of my patients has complicated allergies, so I’ve been spending some time reading. I need to get him started on a treatment plan as soon as possible, so I skipped a few non-essential things to give myself more time to research.”

Hiroji leaned back in his chair. “I’m not sure skipping class is the way to do that. You’re a trauma surgeon, correct, not a allergy specialist?”

“My patient has some trust issues. I’m the only he would trust to do this.”

“ _You’re_ the only one you trust to do this.”

Len shrugged. This wasn’t about him.

Hiroji didn’t start speaking. Len waited him out.

“I’m concerned that this is the same pattern you showed with your father and his condition. You’ve described the late nights of researching, the way you completely ignored your wife and child for months.”

“This is different,” Len growled.

“Looks the same to me.”

How _dare_ he. “I couldn’t save my dad, but I can save Jim!” Len shouted. He was standing and leaning over Hiroji’s desk. Shit. He sat back down in his chair. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Hiroji slowly and deliberately arranged his hands on his desk. “Too many stims lead to anger impulse control you know.”

Len was standing again. “Fuck you,” he spat out. He grabbed his bag and left Hiroji’s office. He glanced at at the time. Good, that had only been 15 minutes, so he had extra time in his day to get back to his research. He headed straight to the library and started reading.

His comm beeped a few times and he turned it off without looking. He didn’t need any distractions.

He was inputting a table from one paper into a PADD so he could compare it to a different one when Hiroji sat down across from him.

“I’ll find a new therapist,” Len said without looking up.

“Two options for you,” Hiroji said calmly, as if Len hadn’t spoken. “First option, we head back to your dorm room and I give you an anti-stim hypo and you get some sleep.”

“You can’t do that,” Len said.

“Second option, and I _absolutely_ can do this, is put you under observation at the clinic for 24 hours.”

Len looked up. “I’m not drinking, not anywhere close to it.”

“We’ve talked about not falling back into old habits. You are deep in a bad habit right now. We’re going to break the cycle now before you do something you can’t fix.”

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. Len didn’t need observation; he was _fine_. He marked where he was in his reading and started gathering his PADDs. Hiroji watched him patiently. After Len finished stacking the PADDs, Hiroji reached across and put them in his messenger bag.

“You can pick these up at your appointment tomorrow.”

Len bit back the nasty things he wanted to say. He shoved back from the table and started stomping his way back to his dorm. Hiroji strode next to him.

“I know how to get to my room.”

“I’ll give you the anti-stim hypo when you’re laying in bed. You’re likely to collapse.”

“Give me the hypo and I’ll do it myself.”

“I’m sure you understand why I don’t trust you to do that.”

Len was fuming and walked faster to get this over with. He jabbed at the keypad at his door and strode in. Jim was there, towel around his waist.

“Long time, no see!” Jim said brightly. “Didn’t know you were bringing company.”

“He won’t be here long.” Len couldn’t think about how he was letting Jim down with this pointless intervention.

“Drink this.” Hiroji handed him a bottle of water and Len started drinking as quickly as he could.

“Are you his roommate?” Hiroji asked as Len was downing the water.

“I stay here sometimes,” Jim said. “I have a quad upstairs so it’s nice to get away from the snoring.” He grinned through his lie.

Len threw the bottle to the side of the bed. He’d deal with it later.

“I’m giving Len an anti-stim hypo. I imagine he’s going to sleep for the next 10 or 12 hours. If you have any concerns, please contact medical.”

“Anti-stim? He won’t even let me use a stim.”

“Yes,” Hiroji agreed. “They’re useful in small doses for their short term effects, but anything after that is dangerous.”

“They’re completely legal,” Len said, sounding whiny to his own ears. Hiroji had the hypo ready to go and Len bared his neck and Hiroji gently released it.

The effect was nearly instantaneous and Len lost any energy to stay upright. Hiroji guided Len back to his pillow. Jim grabbed his legs and pulled them up, and slid off Len’s boots.

“I’m going to turn your comm back on, but it’ll be on silent,” Hiroji said. “There will be a tray of food outside your door when you wake. See you tomorrow.”

Len blinked heavily, trying to focus on Jim at the end of his bed, but he fell asleep.

He woke up later and fumbled for his comm to check the time, but it fell on the floor.

“It’s almost 0700,” Jim said from the couch. He had the lamp on and was reading from a PADD. “Your food was delivered a while ago, and it’s on the counter. How are you feeling?”

“Somehow, still tired,” Len said. He had class at 0800 and needed to prepare for class and get coffee. He got himself into sitting.

“Are you ok? Stims?”

Len waved a hand; he didn't need Jim worrying about him. “I used a couple of stims while I was working on, er, a research project. Hiroji thought it was like when my dad was dying.”  
  
“But you’re ok now? No more stims?” He looked worried.

“Yeah, no more stims.” Apologize, try to do better. “I hope I haven’t been too much of an ass lately.”

“You haven’t around enough to be an ass. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you.”

Len showered, picked at his food, and headed class. Despite the coffee, he almost fell asleep a few time. He was a little lost in everything after skipping. Shit. He was going to need to spend more time on his schoolwork to get caught up and that meant less time researching.

He had an extra appointment with Hiroji at 1700. He showed up at 1715.

“Let’s talk,” Hiroji said and ushered Len into his office. “You made it to all of your classes today, good choice. Stims?”

“None.”

“Good. How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“That’s to be expected. Give it a few days.”

Len could have told him that. “I’m sorry I was an ass yesterday.”

“Thank you for apologizing. I’m not angry with you for what you said yesterday. But I do want you to understand why I did what I did. I don’t want you to fall back on old, unhealthy habits.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know. What’s your alcohol craving?”

“It was a zero while I was on the stims, but maybe a 2 today.”

Hiroji nodded. “Stim craving?”

Len buried his head in his hands. “I’m so tired. 4. 5. But I’m not going to do it.”

“Good. You know the fastest way to recover is getting on a schedule and getting enough sleep.”

“I do.”

“And I want you to think about how isolated you made yourself these past couple of weeks. When was the last time you did something social?”

“I had lunch with Jim today.”

“Ok, anyone besides Jim.”

“A while.”

“Ok, this week's assignment: no stims, do something with someone that isn’t Jim.”

“I can do that.” Hopefully. Len was tired and walked back to his room and crawled into bed. There was a knock at the door and someone from the cafeteria was dropping off a tray. Len glanced at the card, it had been ordered by Hiroji. He ate some of the crackers and soup and fell asleep with a holovid playing. 

  
***

 

Len had read what he could and come up with the best treatment plan he could for Jim. He sent the plan to Dr. Boyce, who sent it to Dr. Oldman, one of the world’s best known allergy specialists, who said she couldn’t have come up with a better plan. Len was glad for the support, but that meant he now needed to convince his patient.

Len gave Jim the outline of the plan in their room.

“If this is how I get on a starship, I’ll do it,” Jim said, crossing his arms petulantly. “What’s the part you aren’t telling me?”

How did this kid have his number so easily? “Until we know how your body is going to react, and we have at least a few anti-allergy medications that you can use, I’m going to need you in the clinic, sitting on a biobed.

Jim paled. “What if I promised to check in every two hours?”

“It’s not a negotiation.” Len put his hand on Jim’s thigh. “I’ll be there with you. You can probably work on homework the entire time.”

Jim didn’t look convinced.

 

***

 

After getting a plan for Jim’s allergies started, Len finally had to stop making excuses. He worked up the nerve to send a short message to his brother, Luke. “Joined Starfleet. They let me keep my medical license. Tell Jojo I’m thinking about her.” He hit send before he could talk himself out of it, again.

He got an incoming videochat message within minutes. He hit accept and was greeted by the sight of his brother, seemingly unchanged in the past six months. A little in need of a haircut and shave, unlike Len who was at Starfleet grooming standards.

Jim let himself in at that moment and gave a questioning look to Len when he saw the vid screen was on. Len motioned him in, it wasn’t like the kid wouldn’t weasel all the relevant information out of him later.

“Hey,” Luke said as the call connected.

“Hey.” Well, this was fucking awkward.

“Sounds like you’ve made some life changes recently,” Luke said in that casual, easy way of his.

“Pretty much.”

“How’s California?”

“Too much fog.”

Luke looked uncomfortable for a moment. “I promised Jocelyn that I wouldn’t let Joanna talk to you.”

“I just want to know she’s ok.”

“She’s,” Luke searched for a word, but started smiling, “great. She loves preschool, comes home every afternoon talking about what she did with her friends. Passed two levels of swimming over the summer. Growing like a weed, we had to buy her shoes in the middle of last week because nothing fit one morning.”

Len buried his head in his hands. He should be the one taking her to preschool and teaching her to swim and buying her shoes.

“It’s ok,” Luke said. “You’d feel worse if she was having a bad time of it.”

“I know,” Len said. God, he didn’t want to cry in front of Luke, but he _ached_.

“Jocelyn was serious about the no contact, though. You really scared her that last time.”

He could remember that last time, sort of. He’d caught Jocelyn and Luke together, knew it was the end, started drinking. Came back to their place, saw his stuff on the porch and barged in anyway, needed to tell her how bad she’d fucked up, how much she had hurt him. Called her a lot of bad names, told her she was a terrible mother. Had Jojo been awake for that? God, what if she had heard her dad like that?

“Not my greatest moment.”

“She didn’t press charges. She wonders if she should have, if it would have helped.”

“Probably not.”

“I will let her know you’re doing better.”

“I’d like to videochat with Joanna sometime,” Len choked out.

“I know,” Luke said. “But I don’t think one vid where you’ve managed to be sober is going to be enough for Jocelyn.” Luke bit his lip. “Or me.”

Len pulled his red sleeve down over his wrist and showed Luke the bracelet. “Sober until December.”

Luke whistled low. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“I didn’t either.”

There was the sound of a chime in the background, an alarm of some kind. “I have to go, but I’m really glad to see your face.”

“Same.”

“I’ll talk to Jocelyn, and let Mama know you’re still alive.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll talk to you soon, ok? Love you.”

“Yeah,” Len said and the screen went dark.

That short conversation had been exhausting, but he felt maybe a tiny bit better. Also, a whole lot worse.

“I didn’t know there were two of you,” Jim piped up from the bed where he’d piled some PADDs and was presumably doing reading for class. “That's the brother?”

“Lucas,” Len confirmed. “I’m the older by a couple of years.”

“Oh, I knew you were an older brother the first day we met,” Jim said grinning. “I’m a little brother, remember?”

And Sam had run off much like Len had. God, maybe he was a bigger asshole than he thought. “I thought about messaging Luke every day, really, I just couldn’t,” he tried to explain.

Jim shrugged it off. “We all have to deal with our own shit in our own way.”

Len’s PADD showed a message, and Len clicked. It was a note from Luke, “Keep it up,” and a photo of Joanna, sitting in the grass, smiling up at the camera. Len touched the picture.

“Even though she looks like a mini-Bones, she’s still pretty cute,” Jim said looking over his shoulder.

Len half-laughed, half-sobbed. “I miss her, Jimmy.”

“I know you do,” he said, rubbing Len’s back.

 

***

 

Len had always studied on his own, but he couldn't think of another reason besides alcohol why he'd want to be around his classmates. But he had that assignment from Hiroji, to work on being social. So when Len finally told Jim he was looking for a study group, Jim lit up. “Let’s see, I’ve been studying with Gaila on Thursday nights. You’ll like her, she’s a computer geek.”

“Like you?”

Jim shrugged. He was a strange mixture of bashful and boastful about his many skills. “She’s most likely to actually study and not, like, start arguing about First Contact politics.”

“I can do that.”

“You can,” Jim agreed.

After grabbing dinner in the cafeteria, they walked to Gaila’s room. Gaila was Orion; Len was surprised, he hadn’t realized there were any Orions in Starfleet. He was going to need to reread his chapters on Orion anatomy and physiology.

Gaila showed Len how to connect to the encrypted wifi she’d set up, and she and Jim chatted about their shared classes. She seemed to be a good influence on Jim, and they all worked in companionable silence for the most part. It was fine. Good, maybe.

A while later, after Len’s eyes were tired from so much reading, Gaila mentioned that the women’s field hockey score was tied between Starfleet and Princeton and would anyone like to watch the last 20 minutes of the game. Which is how Len ended up pressed between Gaila and Jim on the floor of the room, staring at a small screen Gaila had rigged to her desk.

It had been years since Len had watched a game, and he found himself getting back into it, shouting when Starfleet did something good, groaning when they missed.

After the game finished, 2-3 Starfleet winning, Gaila went back to her PADD, but Jim stayed next to Len, their thighs pressed together. It felt nice, actually, although one thing he hadn’t thought about was his dick getting confused. He was feeling a little, well, excited down there.

One part of him was glad, he hadn’t orgasmed in probably months. Since before his dad and Jocelyn and all that maybe. He had a vague notion of heading back to his room, using a lot of water credits, and seeing what would happen.

“Uh, Gaila, can you open the door?” Jim asked. “Your pheromones have me all hot and bothered.”

Gaila laughed. “Sorry,” she said, standing and opening the door. “Now you guys know how I feel when I watch a bunch of muscular women run up and down a field.”

“You’re not wrong,” Jim said.

“Do you want me to kick out Leonard and we can take care of that?” Gaila smiled at Jim.

“Not tonight, thanks,” Jim said with a wink. They all went back to studying. Jim and Len left Gaila’s room with just enough time to make it back to their building before curfew.

They went into their room and both of them sank down on the couch, thighs touching again. “Are you still going to study?” Jim asked. “I have to be up at 0500 so I might turn out the main lights if you don’t mind.”

“Still working on my sleep schedule, so bed for me, too,” Len replied. “Do you think Gaila would mind if I asked her some questions about her physiology? She’s the first Orion I’ve met and I don’t think the textbooks are accurate.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, the books made it seem like her pheromones would make someone intensely sexually attracted to _her_ , but I didn’t really feel that. I wonder if she has different sorts of pheromones, or if it’s not as exact as I’ve read.”

Jim bumped his shoulder into Len. “So you felt it, you should have said something, man, I thought I was the only one.”

“I don’t usually discuss what’s going on in my pants with anyone in earshot the same way you do.”

Jim laughed. “Gaila tells me it doesn’t take much for her to get me going. I think of it as a gift.”

“Of course you do,” Len said dryly. “I’m hoping it wears off soon.”

Jim looked at Len. “The pheromones are short acting. They were probably below a threshold to affect us within minutes of Gaila opening the door. Definitely the walk home would have cleared them out.”

“Oh.” That was strange. Len had a small frown on his face as he mulled it over.

“I’m going to try something. For science,” Jim said and he started leaning over to Len and pressed his lips to Len’s. Len couldn’t fucking breathe, and he kissed back. Jim was the one that broke it off. His lips were dark and shiny and he licked them and Len couldn’t look away. “Well, that’s one for science.”

Len’s lips were tingling where Jim had kissed him, his dick was starting to fill. He wanted Jim, he wanted that moment of orgasm when everything felt good because nothing had felt good lately, he wanted to not fuck this up, he wanted a goddamn drink.

Jim was studying Len’s face. “You ok? I’d like to keep going.”

“Hell, yeah,” Len said, pulling Jim to him. Jim worked a thigh in between Len’s legs and was expertly grinding on Len’s own thigh and it felt good. Len’s brain started to switch off and he enjoyed the sensation of kissing Jim, Jim’s hands in his hair, and his erection against Jim’s thigh.

“Boooones,” Jim said into Len’s ear and Len responded by working a bruise into Jim’s neck with his teeth and lips. “Goooood,” Jim said. Len moved his hands to under Jim’s shirt and rubbed his back. “You’re so hot,” Jim said and buried his head into Len’s shoulder and gasped out his orgasm as Len continued to bite on Jim’s neck. Len could feel the wet heat from Jim’s come seeping through both their pants.

Jim didn’t stop kissing Len post-orgasm. Len wanted to come, wanted it badly, but he couldn’t get there. He realized he was grinding harder and harder into Jim, and was about to give up in frustration.

Jim pushed Len back against the couch and worked open Len’s pants. He licked his hand before sliding it down and grasping Len’s dick. Perfect, god so perfect. Jim used a quick speed and varying pressure and when Jim lay on Len’s side and started kissing him on the jaw, whispering “I got you, come on,” Len came so hard he couldn’t have told you what sounds he was making or what his body was doing. It was bliss, it was heaven, it might even be better than bourbon. 

They peeled off their come-covered clothes and climbed into Len’s bed and Len fell asleep as Jim traced the patterns between the freckles on his back.

They woke up about the same time the next morning; Len still felt out of it, like he’d been drugged or something. One of them had kicked the blankets off at some point, so they were spooned together for warmth. He didn’t know how to do this part, the morning after, so he told Jim to take a shower and he’d start coffee, which Jim agreed to readily. They drank their coffee together but didn’t mention what had happened the night before and Len was grateful. He needed space and time to think.

They both had things to do that day, and Len reminded Jim to come to the clinic that night to start his allergy treatments.

Jim wrinkled his nose.

“Think about commanding your own starship,” Len said. “Think about eating whatever you want.”

Jim shrugged his shoulders but agreed to come by at the start of Len’s shift.

 

***

 

Len spent the day in the labs. It was review for him, but the other students seemed eager to hear what an actual trauma surgeon had to say on some of the different subjects they were studying.

After a nap - a nap in the bed that he and Jim had shared the night before - he was awake for his shift at the clinic. It was light night, and started with a a couple of cadets with the flu and another who needed the dermal regenerator from a nasty slide during a baseball game.

Jim came in not too long later. “Come on,” Len said, motioning with his head. “Let’s treat some allergies.”

Len had chosen the most private room in the back again. He had stockpiled everything he could think of based on what Jim said his symptoms were likely to be, and a few extra suggestions from Dr. Oldman.

Len might be more nervous than Jim, actually.

He had the hypos ready to go. He took one last reading from the biobed. It was time. “This is the smallest dose of diphenhydramine ever given to a patient in an immunotherapy session.”

“Makes me sound special.”

“That is one way of putting it.” Gently as he could, Len administered the hypo to Jim’s neck. They both tensed up for a moment, waiting for the worst, but the readings continued as normal.

Len was finally able to let out the breath he’d been holding. “Ok, we’ll do the next dose in an hour, if your body shows no signs of reacting.” Jim looked put out. “Do some homework, this is hopefully going to be a boring night for the both of us.”

Len went to check on his other patients. Jim’s biobed readings were connected to the PADD in his hand, so it was almost as good as being in the room with him. Almost.

By the time he’d discharged the patients he could and checked up on a concussion, it was about time for Jim’s next dose. He strode in and was surprised to see Pike and Boyce sitting next to Jim’s bed, talking about phaser technology.

“Sirs,” Len said evenly.

“At ease, Doctor,” Pike said. “We’re here to keep Kirk company.”

“He’s told me he’s a hospital flight risk, so thank you,” Len said. He handed his PADD over to Boyce.

“So far, so good,” Boyce said, checking Jim’s readings and handing the PADD back.

Once more into the breach. “Round two,” Len said and administered the second hypo, and all four men waited in tense silence until it seemed clear that Jim wasn’t going to have a reaction at this level either.

Len was writing notes to himself when Pike called him over to Jim's bedside and spoke in low tones. “Kirk, McCoy, this is the last time we’ll discuss this, but Kirk’s medical records have been permanently changed, and will no longer specify where Kirk was, er, as a teenager.”

Jim didn’t say anything, but looked at Len. “Thank you, sirs,” Len responded automatically.

“But if you ever change your mind, Kirk, I have your commendation waiting.”

Jim shrugged and glared at his hands. Len wondered what Jim had done as a 13-year-old in a cursed colony that would merit a commendation from Starfleet. He also knew he’d never ask and Jim would never tell.

The night continued much the same. Jim showed a few blips here and there as the dosage was increased, but stayed mostly in the normal range, and they were able to treat the symptoms as they came.

Pike left around midnight, but Boyce stayed on. Len was glad to have him there, too, someone to bounce off ideas, someone that could remind Len that Jim was fine and this was the best course of action.

It was around 0300 when Len popped his head in to check on Jim, who he could hear chatting with Boyce.

“We’ve been working on an idea for you, Bones,” Jim said.

“I don’t need or want your ideas,” Len responded automatically, checking that his PADD and the biobed were still in sync.

“No, it’s a good one, Dr. Boyce agrees.”

Boyce nodded. That got Len’s attention.

“Immunotherapy for aviophobia.” Jim threw his hands wide.

“No,” Len said, not wanting to hear the rest of Jim’s terrible, no good plan.

“Hear me out,” Jim said gesturing. “I’m about to pass my flight leadership test, and then I’ll be qualified to lead flight simulations.”

“No.”

Jim barreled on. “We’ll start small, we’ll sit outside the sim. Then we’ll sit inside. Then the chair. Then we’ll turn it on. Little by little.”

Boyce seemed amused. “It’s a good idea, and I’m looking forward to hearing your progress.”

Damn meddling superior officers.

“There are multiple aviophobia treatment plans that don’t involve Jim Kirk.”

Boyce looked entirely too amused at their bickering. “It’s not going to hurt you,” Boyce said. “You already know the standard treatment plans, and have decided they aren’t going to work for you. Trying something where you haven’t convinced yourself that something isn’t going to work might be what you need.”

At the end of Len’s shift, Jim was still doing fine, even with the increased dosages. Boyce grabbed campus transport to head to his place, while Len and Jim walked the short distance back to their room. Len stuck a couple of sensors on Jim to keep monitoring him in case he had a delayed reaction and they fell asleep together, Len's hand around Jim's wrist so he could feel Jim's heartbeat, regular and steady.

 

***

 

“I started a sexual relationship,” Len told Hiroji. He’d been thinking about it all session while they went over how his new responsibilities were going at the clinic, food choices, Christ, and his sleeping schedule, double Christ.

“How do you feel about that?” Hiroji asked.

He thought it was a dumb quirk of humans that an orgasm by your own hand wasn’t anywhere near as satisfying as one with someone else. “I don’t know,” Len mumbled. “That’s why I’m asking you.”

“You don’t need my permission to have sex or a relationship,” Hiroji said lightly. “What’s your question?”

“I guess I think I’m too fucked up to make it work.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Should I wait until I’m less fucked up to start a relationship?”

“Based on what you’ve told me, you and your ex-wife had a good relationship with each other until you both started valuing your careers over each other.”

“She _cheated_ on me with my _brother_.”

Hiroji nodded. “That was a symptom, not the cause. She started a relationship with your brother after you weren’t emotionally, physically or sexually available to her.”

Len glared at the floor.

“I’m not saying she was right, but I’m saying that there were two people being wrong in that marriage.”

“I know.” God, did he know.

“Ok, good. Now tell me, is this a relationship that you see being more than sexual?”

“I guess, he’s my friend, my best friend here, I guess. Even if I fuck up the sex part, I’d still want to be friends.”

“Friendship can be a great place to start a romantic relationship. What are you going to do to make sure this relationship doesn’t end up like the one with your ex-wife?”

“Not murder my father.”

Hiroji didn’t say anything, just kept looking at Len in the face.

Len sighed.

“Talk to your friend. You need to be able to tell him how you’re feeling. Or not. If it’s just sex, make that clear, too. But use your words.”

“Is that an assignment?” Len asked testily.

Hiroji smiled, soft. “Worse, it’s real life. Now tell me about this aviophobia immunotherapy Jim thought up.”


	3. We never have enough time to show our love

The semester continued. Jim was making good progress with his immunotherapy for his allergies. After a couple of weeks Len felt confident that he had two antihistamines that he could use to treat Jim, and started allowing Jim to do his treatments outside the clinic.

In their room, Len couldn’t let Jim do something so dangerous away from him, dammit.

Classes were hard, but in a good way. Even Leadership had its good moments. He could see that being Chief of Surgery or a even the CMO was leadership: it was people management skills as much as doctor skills.

He and Jim had spent a lot of time together. More time than Len had ever spent with anyone besides his brother, probably. Whenever they had free time, Jim coaxed Len to the flight sims.

Len hated to admit it, but it was getting easier to at least get into the sim and practice basic flight maneuvers. He didn’t think he’d be ready for the real thing any time soon, but Jim said he wanted Len to know what to do with any problem the sim might throw at them before even thinking about an actual shuttle. "Next year," he said whenever Len was worrying out loud. 

“It’s a control thing with you,” Jim had said offhandedly.

He was probably right. And pot, kettle.

Jim was a good pilot, great maybe. On nights when Len had too much reading to do more than a couple practice sims, Jim usually had Len to read in the co-pilot seat while he worked on the advanced sims, setting the difficulty level to high and random. When those became too easy for him, Gaila hacked the controls so Jim could make it even harder with more complex problems. Sometimes Len would look up from his PADD and Jim would be concentrating fiercely as he dealt with whatever scenario the sim threw at him, muttering under his breath until he fixed the problem. 

Jim had a perfect no-death record. Not a no-crash record. "You do have to crash sometimes," he explained to Len. "But your job as a pilot is to learn to crash _safely_."  
  
Len was intently reading one night and didn't notice anything was wrong until Jim started muttering "shit, shit, shit" under his breath. The sim started shaking, the computer voice was counting down until impact, and when the voice said 3-2-1, the red light flicked on: "Crash: All Occupants Dead." 

Len had cracked his PADD from squeezing it so tight. 

Jim let his forehead rest on the flight controls. "I killed you," he said softly. "FUCK!" he screamed pounding his fists into the controls. Len's hands were shaking too much to unbuckle so he could touch Jim, remind him they were both alive. Jim helped him out of his seat, like he had the day the shuttle had landed in San Francisco, and they fell together in between the seats.

They clung to each other for minutes, while Len tried to get his breathing back under control. "I'm going to figure it out," Jim said. "I _have_ to." 

Jim took the data chip with him and showed it to the best pilots on campus, which were some of the best pilots in the world. Some scenarios didn't have a answer, they said. Sometimes the engines went out and the backups didn't work and the backups to the backups didn't work either. Jim went back on a his own a few times to try again, and there were more failures. 

"I don't believe in no-win situations," Jim said to Len as he reread the engine schematic diagrams over dinner. 

When the pilots couldn't help, he started talking to the engineers on campus. Len wondered when this would end, would Jim be talking to theoretical physicists next? Was it possible for Jim to figure out time travel in order to cheat death? Jim finally found an answer, he could restart one of the backup engines by crawling through the maintenance tube, but he'd need a magnetic rig to fight against the free fall. The engineering department modified one of their rigs for him. 

This time when he went back to the sim to try again for the fifth time, he had a few pilots and engineers waiting to see what he could do. He insisted on Len as his co-pilot, despite Len's protests. The sim started and like the first time, Len didn't realize that everything was going to hell until it already had. Jim nodded at Len, put on his rig and left his seat. Len couldn't do anything when the engines were out anyway, so he stayed in his seat, eyes glued to the controls. After a few minutes, a light flickered on and then the entire sim started shaking harder and harder, and then it leveled out. 

Jim had fucking done it. He'd figured his way out of a no-win situation. Len hadn't realized he had been hyperventilating and fainted. 

 

***

 

Jim rarely used his assigned room. He’d went back late one night - drunk because he sometimes felt weird being drunk around Len and his monitoring bracelet - and discovered his roommates had started using his bed for their dirty laundry.

Jim had already moved his few belongings to Len’s room apparently, so he just stopped making appearances. There were some rules and regulations about sleeping quarters, but Jim had said everything was “fine” and “don’t worry” and it was probably better for Len to not be able to be alone in his room, and he didn’t ask too many questions. When Jim said something was handled, it usually was.

Sex between them happened sometimes, if one of them couldn’t sleep, the other would start a hand job for the other, or more recently a blow job. They liked to rub against each other; Len loved it when Jim used the space between his thighs or his asscrack to get off, adding a bit of lube made it more intense. 

No penetration, yet. It felt like that was a big step, the sort of step you can’t back down from. The sort of step you need to have a talk about. Len had only been with a few people before Jim, none of them men, and Jocelyn had been it for him for over a decade. Was it too soon?

Was it weird he sometime thought he’d be breaking his vows despite having signed divorce papers? His marriage license hadn’t meant anything to Len, he wasn’t going to cheat on her when they were dating, when they were engaged, or when they were married. It felt weird that his divorce papers now said he could.

But, he was almost ready. 

 

***

 

It was exam time, every cadet was stressed, including Len. He was studying his xenobiology notes and eating oatmeal as Jim tutored some engineering track student on warp theory, a normal morning in the cafeteria, except everyone was seemingly drinking twice as much coffee as usual.

Len had his head down in his notes and hadn’t noticed anything amiss when Jim elbowed him.

“Choking?” he asked quietly, pointing at a female cadet who was coughing and had her hands up to her throat.

“Got it,” Len said standing and hurrying to her side and sitting next to her.

“I’m Leonard, and I’m a doctor, just keep coughing,” he said gently. This was scary for her, but her body was doing everything it needed to.

Her friend she was eating with just noticed - well after Jim at a different table - that something was wrong. “Oh my god! Oh my god!” he started shouting.

“Sit down and shut up,” Len growled. This woman didn’t need anyone staring at her right now.

“Call medical!” the friend wailed.

“I’m a doctor!” Len said, keeping his eyes on the woman who was choking.

Jim grabbed the friend’s arm. Thank god for Jim. “Hey, your friend is ok, and my friend is going to take care of her.” But it was too late, seemingly everyone in the cafeteria was standing up, crowding around the table.

Jim took control of the situation. “Hey, can everyone sit down? Dr. McCoy can handle this.”

The woman stopped coughing and looked at Len in a panic. Whatever in her throat had shifted and she wasn’t getting any air at all. Len stood and gave her a couple of hard blows on her back and a grape flew out of her mouth and she was able to take a few giant wheezy breaths.

Jim was still doing crowd control.

Len rubbed her back gently. “You ok?” he asked.

“That was scary!” she said, tearing up and leaning into Len.

“It was, but you’re ok now,” he said.

Within a few minutes, the woman had composed herself, her friend had stopped panicking, and Jim had the audience back into their seats. The woman left with her friend to get checked out at the clinic, and Len sat down to finish his breakfast.

“Good eye seeing that,” he said quietly to Jim and drank deeply from his coffee, they were running out of time before class started.

Jim shrugged off the praise. “You were the one who saved her life.”

The world started to tilt sideways and then Len's vision narrowed like he was going to faint and then everything he’d eaten that morning started coming back up and for the second time, he threw up on Jim.

He felt more awful than anything that had ever happened to him before, like every organ was giving up.

“Bracelet,” he tried to say.

Jim looked horrified and grabbed Len’s comm and started shouting. Len leaned over and threw up again.

In minutes, there was a stretcher and they were moving Len somewhere and Jim was shouting but Len couldn’t keep track of anything and he tried to throw up again but there was nothing left and he was just dry heaving. Was Jim carrying his breakfast tray?

They were in the clinic, and security was there? Why was there so much security and Jim was talking and talking and then Boyce was there. He felt a hypo to his neck, then another and another.

Scissors cutting his uniform shirt off.

Boyce dumping the anti-adhesive onto the sensor and ripping it off. Another hypo. Blessed blackness.

He came to in the clinic. Pike was standing next to his bed, typing on a PADD. “Awake?” he asked.

“Sir?” Len mumbled.

Pike stood and looked down at Len. “Cadet, you need to answer me truthfully. The punishment for lying is more than non-compliance with the alcohol avoidance system.”

“Sir,” Len said.

“Did you knowingly ingest alcohol today?”

“No.” God, he was so close to getting the damned bracelet off, weeks that were almost days.

“Did you want to get out of your xenobiology exam and drank alcohol to make yourself sick so you could take the exam later?”

What? “No.”

“Do you know who would want to make you sick?”

“No.” Had someone done this to him? “Where’s Jim?” he croaked.

“Giving his statement to security.” Pike’s mouth was a tight line. He placed a hand on Len’s shoulder. “I’ll debrief you later.” He paused. “Get some rest.”

Len wasn’t tired enough to sleep he thought, but he drifted off. When he woke up the next time, Jim was next to his bed.

“Bones!” he said cheerfully.

“Jim.”

“So that alcohol bracelet really works, huh?”

“Too well,” Len grumbled. “Did Pike figure out what was going on?”

Jim wrinkled his nose. “No. Whoever did it, put straight ethanol in your coffee. They reviewed the tapes, but because of the commotion when that girl was choking, you can’t see your tray for a few minutes, and it’s the back of a hundred heads.”

“Shit.”

Jim rubbed his hands together nervously. “I told Pike I thought it might be someone trying to get me. I have a flight final today and if someone accused me of drinking before the test and it came up positive, it’s an automatic fail.”

Crap. “You need to take your test, not be here with me.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Pike said he’d get it rescheduled for some secret time that can’t be looked up on the campus database.”

Pike walked in at that moment. “Kirk, wait for your friend in the hallway.”

Jim shrugged his shoulders at Len and walked into the hallway. “Jim noticed that woman choking before I did, before her friend did.”

Pike nodded. “It’s a good trait in a captain. But he’s not in trouble, and neither are you. I don’t know what happened today, but I find it unlikely that you would drink alcohol, knowing the effects and also so close to getting the bracelet off.”

Len nodded. He hadn’t realized he’d been on trial. “Do you think someone wanted to get at me or Jim?”

“No evidence either way. Unless you know something I don’t.”

“I don’t.” Jim had those roommates and all those people that hated him for being a Kirk, but that was for Jim to say.

“Ok. This is still an open case, but we have no evidence unless someone comes forward. Phil says you’re on mandatory bedrest for 24 hours. I’ll approve the note for your professors to reschedule your exams.” He gave Len a look Len couldn’t parse. “If you think of anything, comm me.” With a touch to Len’s shoulder he strode out.

Len wondered how soon he could leave. He was going to have to get the sensor put back on and that sounded terrifying. He just wouldn’t eat in the cafeteria until he was done with his 120 days, that was for sure.

Hiroji stopped by later. “Wanna talk?” he asked, rolling a chair so he was in Len’s sightline.

“Not really.”

“Well, at least now if you need to talk to someone as a doctor about the bracelet, you’ll have firsthand experience about the entire process.” Hiroji smiled wryly.

Len tried to smile, but it wasn’t funny yet, he still felt like shit. “Something like that.”

“I heard that you don’t have any idea who could have done it?”

Len shrugged. He’d thought of nothing else. He needed to work on his bedside manner, but he didn't think he'd pissed off anyone enough for what had happened that morning.

“I talked with Dr. Boyce and Commander Pike, and they decided to have me not reattach the sensor. We’re going to keep the bracelet on your wrist until your time is up, but only to give the illusion that you’re still being monitored. They don’t want to draw any more attention to you than you already have.”

Suddenly, Len could breathe again. “Thank god,” he said weakly.

“You know,” Hiroji said, “things you could mention to your therapist are things like ‘the idea of putting the sensor back on is terrifying.’”

“Obvious, right?”

Hiroji stared at Len. “Ok, so you will be able to drink alcohol starting in, let’s say, 24 hours, I’d really let everything in your system clear out before adding alcohol to the mix. What’s your plan?”

“New Years Eve, with friends, not alone. One drink, no shots. Not bourbon. If I can’t stop at one, I’ll come in for observation.” They’d discussed this a few times already; Hiroji didn’t want Len to fall back into old patterns.

Len didn’t want to fall back on old patterns.

Hiroji nodded. “That’s a good plan. You can comm me, as well. Now let me make sure these clinic docs got off all the glue.” Len rolled to his side and Hiroji dabbed at the spot on Len’s back. “They did get all the glue, but made a mess of your skin.”

“I’m glad,” Len said. “A second longer would have been a second too long.”

“Let me get a regen on it, and then I’ll get out of your hair.” Len rolled all the way to his front and let Hiroji fuss with the machine.

Len wasn’t good at this part. “Thanks for your help,” he said. “It’s been good being able to talk to you.”

“It’s my job,” Hiroji said. “But just between us, it’s nice to have someone make as much progress as you. But you’ll still see me, as often as you like, but at least every other week for a while.” Len felt the small buzz of the rederm, which meant it was on.

“Ok, I set it at a low setting, like I’ve heard you complain about a hundred times, and it’ll turn off automatically. Get some sleep, ok?”

“I’ll do my best.” And Len didn’t know if it was the long nights studying or whatever had been in the hypos, but he found himself drifting to sleep in no time.

 

***

 

Jim had offered - with great excitement - to plan Bones’ first drink back. “You shared your last drink with me, remember? It’s only fitting.”

Len had told Jim the ground rules he’d worked through with Hiroji, and Jim said he could work with it. Len had planned on his first drink being for New Years Eve, but he ended up having to work a bunch of doubles around then. So he and Jim had decided January 3, the day before Jim’s birthday, as a start to Jim’s birthday celebrations and Len being able to drink again. Len, of course, had clinic hours that day - perks of being the newest hire and also not leaving to go back to Georgia on break - and it had been a long, slow day, thankfully. He walked into his room and Jim was there, smiling broadly.

“Happy birthday, kid,” Len said.

“Not for another 15 minutes,” Jim said. He was excited enough he was vibrating on his feet. “I invented a drink for you.”

“Invented?”

“I have been perfecting my Bones martini for weeks,” Jim said. He stood at the small kitchen counter and started measuring ingredients into a martini shaker, vodka, liqueur, ice and - Len had to smile - peach juice. Jim gave the martini shaker a few hard shakes, and poured the peach-colored liquid into two glasses. He did a few dance steps as he brought the glasses over to Len, setting them on the coffee table in front of them, and sat down on the couch next to Len, their knees touching.

“Are you ready?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Len said. Then heart beating in his chest, he leaned across and kissed Jim on the mouth. He pulled back. “Thanks.”

Jim was staring at Len’s mouth. “I didn’t know this was an option.”

“It is if you want it to be.”

Jim smiled. “Oh, fuck _yes_ ,” he said and kissed Len back, more forcefully, with tongue. They broke off for a moment, both of them staring at the other's lips.

Len wasn’t sure what look was on his face, but Jim cocked his head. “Drink?”

“Sounds good.” Jim handed Len a glass and held his up for a toast.

“To new beginnings.”

That was apt. “New beginnings.” They clinked their glasses and Len took a sip. It was smooth, not too sweet, and finished with the taste of peaches. It was excellent.

“This is good.”

“Don’t act too surprised,” Jim said. They drank their martinis and talked about their upcoming schedules for the spring semester and Jim’s plans for his birthday and not kisses and not them. 

They finished their drinks about the same time.

“How are you feeling?” Jim asked.

“Good,” Len said smiling at Jim. And he was. He was stopping, he could stop, and he had a small buzz and it was nice.

“Are you drunk?” Jim was grinning.

“My tolerance is shit.”

“I wouldn’t say that like it’s a bad thing.” Jim licked his lips. “Shall we move this party to bed?”

“Yeah,” Len said and Jim jumped up and dragged Len up to standing and they kissed again before heading to their bed and falling into it.

They made out for a while, slowly losing clothes. It was unhurried and nice. Len hadn’t done this sort of thing since he was teenager probably.

“For the record, I like topping and bottoming,” Jim said.

Oh. Well, then.

Len could do this, he wanted to do this, and manhandled Jim onto his back, Jim squirming happily like a cat. Jim spread his legs as Len reached to the side table and rummaged for the lube.

“You know what you’re doing back there?” Jim was teasing, mostly.

“Doctor, remember?” Which meant he usually did this part with gloves. But he lubed up his finger and gently pressed in.

“What if my brain gets confused and I get a boner every time I get a prostate exam?”

Doctors hadn’t had to do routine rectal prostate exams in over a century. “Let me show you the difference,” Len said, stimulating Jim’s prostate with his finger and capturing the tip of Jim’s dick in his mouth. If Jim’s moan was anything to go by, he understood the difference now.

“You've never done this before?” Jim asked, after he had insisted he was ready as he needed, and Len had lubed his own dick.

“New beginnings,” and Len started sliding in. It was similar to what he knew, but also strange enough that his nerve endings were singing.

When he was all the way in, Jim dragged him down for a kiss and held Len in place with his legs. “I knew it would be this good.”

It really was. Neither lasted very long, but it felt amazing and with a great orgasm and a little alcohol, Len was sleepily pressing kisses to Jim's shoulder. "Happy birthday," he said, and Jim turned his head to press a kiss to Len's forehead.

 

***

 

They woke up the morning of Jim’s birthday and had sex again, Jim still loose from the night before. “This might be the best birthday _ever_ ,” Jim said after, as they laid in bed and enjoyed their post-orgasmic haze.

Len had a shift at the clinic; he’d switched to get the night off for Jim’s actual party. Working the day shift was hopefully a good idea for two reasons: going out with Jim that night and avoiding seeing his ex-wife on every vid screen when she did her highly-rated yearly _Kelvin_ special. This year she was interviewing two couples that had met on the _Kelvin_ and discussing how the tragedy had made their relationship stronger.

Christ.

He hoped Jim could avoid it, too.

The campus was still mostly deserted, and his shift was long and uneventful, which was a good thing, he had to remind himself a few times. He’d gotten a ping from Hiroji, asking how he was doing, and he had the time to send a few sentences back.

After his shift, he headed back to his room to shower and change for a night out. He’d gone out to eat a few times since his arrival, but this was his first time going to a bar. He reminded himself that he could leave whenever he wanted.

Jim was already showered from whatever he’d gotten up to that day. It wasn’t a fist fight or drinking himself under a table - yet - which was, according to Jim, unusual for him. Jim had brought back sandwiches from the cafeteria and they ate quickly before heading out to the bar Jim had picked based on the retro jukebox that sat in the corner of the place.

Jim's party was a bunch of people that Len mostly knew by sight. Len started with a water, he didn’t have to drink unless he wanted to. Nyota sat across from him. They were in the same Basic Leadership discussion group and she knew he’d been off the booze all semester. She also probably remembered his behavior on the shuttle to San Francisco, but had been gracious enough to never mention it.

They were friendly, if not friends. When he finished his water, he offered to buy the next round, and she accepted. It was his first time back at a bar counter, but he felt ok. Out of practice, maybe. Jim was next to him, a few drinks in, if Leonard had to guess by his affectionate back slap and the glazed look in his eyes.

“How are you?” Jim asked.

“Good,” and Len finally caught the bartender’s eye and ordered a couple of drinks. Spritz for Nyota and a beer for himself. “It’s for Uhura,” Len said, hating he had to justify himself.

“I know, I’ve seen you two flirting all night,” Jim said.

Len rolled his eyes. “She has that mysterious boyfriend,” Len said. In a lower voice, “And the only person I want to leave with tonight is the birthday boy.”

Jim grinned at him. “Well, stick around for when I blow out the candles and maybe I’ll tell you who I’m wishing for.”

Len took a step into Jim’s personal space. “Give me a hint.” Was Len  _flirting_?

“He’s about this tall,” Jim said, patting Len on the top of the head, “doctor, grumpy, but the _things_ he can do with his hands.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Len said grabbing the two drinks off the bar and stepping back.

He handed the spritz to Nyota and sipped his beer. Jim joined them from time to time, and after Jim blew out the candles on the cake in the shape of an old-fashioned spaceship, he found Len and dragged him back to their room for a few more rounds of fantastic sex.

"Yep, best birthday ever," he told Len as Len was attempting to clean the two of them up enough for sleep. "I should have tried getting my brains fucked out _years_ ago."

Len smiled down at Jim. "I'm not entirely opposed to making this more than a yearly event," and Jim laughed.  

 

***

 

Sex with Jim just got better and better. Len and Jocelyn had spent a few weeks or months as teenagers figuring out the best way to get each other off in bed, and then hadn’t experimented much past then. Their final years together, especially once they both had gotten involved in their careers, had been rote for the most part. He was pretty sure he was getting her off - she wasn’t the type to pretend - but that was nothing like this thing he had with Jim.

Len had finally decided to try bottoming for the first time a few weeks after he and Jim had started fucking. He was curious and Jim made him feel safe, like it was ok to try new things. So one night he handed Jim the lube and spread his knees and Jim had pressed kisses to his shoulders and tongued at his nipples and started getting his fingers lower and Len had thought it would feel weird and it did but it also felt really really good. Jim had taken his time and slid in slowly and it didn’t hurt, it felt right, if Len had had to pick a word at that moment and he felt something that might be love when he looked up at Jim over him, Len’s body making Jim look like that, like everything was good and nothing existed outside of the two of them. Len came untouched, just Jim’s dick in him, and Jim was speechless for a minute, but he swiped a bit of Len’s come from his stomach and licked his finger and came himself and Len didn’t know sex could be like _that_.

  
***

 

Len was out of work later than usual. Friday nights were either slow or busy, there was no in between. Today had been one of the busy ones, probably the full moon. Most of the usual clinic stuff, a broken ankle, lots of stomach flu, three fistfights, just one after the other.

He stripped off his scrubs, threw on some new ones to head home.

Jim was sitting in the waiting area. “Hi,” he said brightly, jumping up.

“You need a doctor?” Len asked, hoping the answer was no.  
  
“Was in the area, thought we’d walk home together.”

Len raised an eyebrow, but Jim shrugged. Len would figure it out sooner or later.

Sooner as the case would be. As soon as they were outside, Jim said just above a whisper, “My comm and PADD are missing.”

Len stopped to stare at him. “This has gone on too long. What happened? Who took it?”

Jim shrugged. “While I was doing laps at the pool. Someone got into my locker. If I can borrow your PADD to see the surveillance video?”

“I think you should go straight to Pike.”

“I need to handle this on my own. They already say that the only reason I’m here is because of Pike; I can’t run to him every time someone’s mean to me. So, I can borrow your PADD?”

Len should say no. Len should drag Jim to Pike’s condo and make Jim tell Pike everything.

Len was tired; he was going to go home and get into bed and deal with this later. “Let’s deal with this in the morning,” he said, using his keycard to enter the building.

Len was debating a coffee to stay up and watch some vids or going straight to bed, when Jim peeled his shirt off and then he helped Len take his shirt off and Len wisely decided bed was the best option.

Jim pushed Len down on the bed and used a couple of fingers to get him ready and then thrust into him slowly and deliberately and Len laid there at the brink of orgasm for some time, feeling Jim thrusting into him, enjoying Jim’s hands in his hair, on his shoulders, and long kisses. 

They were making love, he thought suddenly in the middle of things. It wasn’t just sex, it definitely wasn’t fucking, it was making love. He wrapped his arms around Jim’s shoulders and pressed them together, kissing him again and again.

Jim came first, muffling a moan into the side of Len’s neck.

“Boooones,” Jim said pulling out and laying down with his head on Len’s shoulder. He reached a hand down and started stroking and Len closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Jim’s hand on his dick and it didn’t take long for Len to come all over his stomach.

The best way to end an exhausting week and whatever would happen tomorrow.

Jim traced a finger down Len’s face. “You look relaxed.” He yawned. “I’m gonna go get something to clean up with,” he said making no move to leave Len’s chest.

Len was too tired to care, and his eyes closed and he felt Jim propping a leg on Len and not getting up as Len fell asleep.

Vaguely he was aware of someone pounding on his door. There was the beep of the door code being overridden and the door sliding open.

“Lights 100%,” a voice barked and Len blinked against the bright lights, his hand reaching to the side of the bed for his med kit.

Jim woke up at that moment, rolling out of bed into a crouch, fists up. “Get back,” he slurred keeping Len behind him.

Len’s eyes were watering in the light. Why was he naked? Why was Pike here?

“Stand down, idiot,” Pike said picking up his comm. “I have located Cadet Kirk. I don’t believe he was involved. I’ll take him somewhere secure until this situation is sorted. Pike out.”

“What?” Len finally managed words.

Pike leaned over and started throwing clothes at Jim and Len. “Clothes on, cadets. You’re coming with me.”

There were a handful of security officers behind Pike. “Brig?” one of them asked.

“What?” Len asked again. He glanced at his comm, it was 0300 in the morning, they’d been asleep less than an hour.

Pike sighed. “No, just somewhere these idiots,” - he gestured at Jim and Len - “can’t get into more trouble. The conference room next to my office should be fine.”

Len had pulled on his scrubs bottoms and was working with the top. Jim was still half-asleep and blinking in the light. “Kid, put your clothes on,” Len said and Jim started to comply. He got an arm stuck, and Len helped him pull on his shirt and put his pants in his hands, which Jim thankfully was able to get on by himself.

Pike did not look amused. As Jim was doing his zipper, Pike barked “Let’s go, cadets,” and they hurried to pull on their boots and follow. Len grabbed his medical kit. Pike eyed him.

“Kirk's allergy meds?”

“Yes.” Of course. Len didn’t go anywhere without them.

“Jones will carry it. If you need it, he will give it back to you. You are only to use it in case of an actual emergency.” Len felt naked without it, but handed his med kit over to the security officer holding his hand out.

The security team trailed behind them.

“What’s going on?” Jim asked.

Pike turned to glare at him.

“What’s going on, _sir?_ ” Jim tried.

"Where's your comm?" Pike asked.

"Went, uh, missing last night when I was at the gym."

“You’re going to need to explain why security wasn’t alerted the moment your comm went missing and you,” - Pike turned his steel glare at Len - “are going to have a lot of paperwork to fill out. Sexual liaisons with your patient, sexual liaisons with someone you outrank. I am going to make you fill out so much paperwork you will wish you had never heard the name James Tiberius Kirk.”

As he walked, he felt Jim’s come start to ooze out his ass. “I already do.”

They were at the Johnson Administration building, and Pike used his keycard to get them in. They went up the elevator, a tight squeeze with Len, Jim, Pike and three security team members. They walked past Pike’s office and Pike keyed them into the conference room. He pointed at Jim and Len and then seats on opposite sides of the table. They sat.

One security officer was taking out all of the technology of the room, one was standing at the door, and the third walked in with two basic PADDs, the kind given to children, in hand.

Pike put one in front of Jim. “Write down every single place you’ve been since your PADD and comm went missing. Include anyone that can confirm you were there.”

Jim looked chagrined. “The first time my comm went missing or the second time?”

Pike’s face remained expressionless. “Start writing,” he spat. He turned to Len. “You’re going to need to fill out Form 1042A, B and C for every infraction you’ve made. Oh and 956, and, let’s go ahead and say 843D.”

“You want me to fill out a form for every time I’ve had sex with Jim?”

“You are on thin ice, Cadet,” Pike said. “Start typing. I’ll be back.” He turned and marched out of the room, the door closing behind him, locking in place. One security guard stayed outside the door. Len could see his medical kit at the guard's feet. There was that.

Len went to the bathroom and tried to clean as much come off as him as he could. He could use a dermal regenerator for the bruises Jim had left on his neck and shoulders, too. Jim probably looked about the same.

He came back into the room. “What do you think is happening?” he asked Jim. He glanced at the forms Pike had left him, but without his own PADD with his calendar and schedule he wasn’t going to be able to fill out much of anything.

“I don’t know,” Jim said, tapping the stylus against his lips. “I thought the thief wanted me to get in trouble for not having my equipment, but now I wonder if something else was going on.”

“It’s a fucking set up,” Len said. “It was the long con and we’ve been had.”

“I don't know,” Jim said. “Pike’s going to be able to see in the code all I did was program the comm to ping my old room when I was in yours. Lots of people don't spend the night in their assigned room.” Lots of people _don't_ hack military tracking code went unsaid.

Len went back to the forms and started typing. Jim would occasionally lift his head and say something terrible like, “Are you going to include the time I was trying to give you a blow job and you fell asleep?” and “Are you going to fill out one or two forms for that time I made you come twice without taking my dick out of your ass?”

Len never wanted to see another form again.

Len relocated to the couch on the back wall after not too long. Jim joined him an hour or two later. “I can’t remember what I had for breakfast, I don’t remember where I was three Thursdays ago.” He laid his head on Len’s shoulder. “Are you going to get in trouble because of us?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know, Jimmy.” It wasn’t like he used his rank, he was still a cadet. “But think about who you’d want as your primary doctor if they won’t let me keep doing it.”

“So you’re not going to dump me?”

Len shook his head. “Never.”

Jim fell asleep with his head on Len’s thigh and Len finally let sleep overtake him at some point. The hissing of the door woke him up as Pike walked in. Pike used the key code by the door to lock them in. Len used an arm to shake Jim awake.

“Cadets,” he motioned them back to the table.

“Can you tell us what’s going on?” Len asked as Jim and Len sat across from Pike.

“First I want you to tell me what you know,” Pike said. He turned to Jim. “Tell me everything, and I do mean everything, or I’m giving McCoy your demerits.”

“What!?” Jim spluttered. “That’s against regulation!”

Pike pointed to the lines on his shirt sleeve. “This says I can do what I want.” He slid his finger on his PADD. “I’m pulling up the demerit form right now.”

Jim looked at the PADD. “I can handle my own demerits.”

“I know,” Pike said. “Can you handle McCoy on toilet-cleaning duty for the rest of the semester?” He was still on his PADD, and switched to typing. “M-C-C-O-Y,” he spelled as he typed.

“Fine!” Jim said.

Pike leaned back. “You’ll tell me everything.”

“Everything.”

“Great,” Pike said without inflection. “Dr. McCoy, when should Jim start?” Len tried to look at Jim, but Pike slammed his hand down. “The FBI, the CIA and two admirals are investigating. Start. Talking.”

“Jim’s first comm went missing the morning of the first day of classes,” Len said.

“First day of classes,” Pike repeated, forehead vein throbbing. He turned back to Jim.

Jim shrank back. “So, ok, the first day of classes,” and went on to tell Pike more or less everything that he could remember. He remembered more than Len, that was for sure, but Len didn’t know if it was Jim who had neglected to mention all of it or if Len had been too caught up in his own problems to pay attention. Maybe both. Len had thought Jim was getting into a lot of fights, but, hell, he'd met Jim after he'd been in a hell of a fight. The fights, the missing equipment, Len's poisoning, when it all got put together, it was a lot. Len wondered if maybe all of the times he used the dermal regenerator on Jim without logging it into his medical record helped hide the truth. 

Pike had started pacing at some point and now he sat down heavily. “Ok, here’s what we know. The ammunition warehouse was opened without prior authorization at 0237 this morning. The code to get into the building was Kirk's, and his comm placed him there at the time.”

Jim looked to Len who looked back. “He was with me at that time, I was off-shift around 0130. You can check that.”

“I already did.” Pike looked defeated. “The security cameras for the entire night are wiped, a campus-wide glitch the tech department is telling me.”

“You found me in Bones' room, isn’t that enough proof it wasn’t me?”

“There’s just enough time that you could have opened the warehouse, taken whatever you wanted, and scurried back to your fuckbuddy’s dorm room before I found you.”

“What’s missing?” Len asked. 

“That’s classified, and by classified it means we’re not sure yet. Tell me, Kirk, who do you think is most likely to have it out for you?" 

Jim spread his arms wide. “Cupcake from that Iowa bar. My roommates were all kind of dicks to me. Half the campus thinks I'm only in Starfleet because of my name." Jim shrugged. "You tell me, sir." 

Pike wiped a hand across his face. "Ok, let's take this one by one." It was going to be a long night.

 

***

 

Pike called them to his office four days later.

“We’re about two hours from a press briefing. Sandford Sullivan Hart is under arrest." 

"My _fucking_ roommate," Jim growled.

"Yes," Pike said. "He's confessed to the ammunition warehouse break-in, stealing Kirk’s comm and PADD to frame him, and poisoning McCoy. That was actually how we narrowed down our list of suspects, got a warrant to look at purchases made on his account, and he'd ordered ethanol a month before McCoy ended up at the clinic.”

“Motive?” Jim asked.

“Hated you apparently,” Pike said. “It took him two tries to get into the Academy, and he barely got in. Didn't like that you were recruited without the hoops he had to jump through.”

"But why me?" Len asked quietly. 

"He wanted you kicked out of Starfleet so Kirk would have to go back to his own bedroom and it would be easier to steal his stuff." 

"Christ." Len shook his head.. 

"Anyway, this should be the end of it," Pike said. "I'm sorry that one of our own didn't live up to Starfleet standards, but he'll be in prison long after you two have graduated."

Pike shook both of their hands. "Your names will be left out of the press conference, so hopefully this is the end of it."

 

***

 

It did seem to be the end of it, and what was left of the semester flew by. Jim was officially reassigned to Len's room, and was accepted to a prestigious off-world posting for the summer.

Len had signed off on Jim's medical report for the posting. Jim still had too many allergies for a starship, but he was cleared for the short-term spaceport posting.

That’s what Len kept reminding himself. Even as they slogged through exam week with the papers and testing and practicals that came with it, Len kept a countdown in his head for when Jim would be leaving.

They didn’t bother with sleep the night before Jim left, Len getting in late from his shift at the clinic and Jim needing to report to the shuttle that would take him up to the spaceport early. They had sex and cuddled and had sex again. Len wasn’t sure what the next six weeks were going to be like. He hoped he’d be busy enough that he wouldn’t have time to miss Jim.

He must have started to drift to sleep, because he felt Jim kissing his forehead. “I’ll be back in no time,” Jim whispered. “And I’ll comm the second I can.”

“Bye, Jimmy,” Len said and they held each other. “Don’t be late, and don't do anything stupid, ok?”

Jim extracted himself from Len's arms and grabbed his bag. "I'll be back before you know it."

Len missed him already.

 

***

 

It was hard having Jim away for six weeks. Work had been damned hard this final week; Len had lost two patients. Both had been old and had wanted surgery knowing the odds weren’t good, but still, it stung. And then, fuck it, and then he’d come back to his room and had two messages waiting. The first from his little girl telling him that Mama was getting married and she was going to have two daddies and wear a dress just like a princess. The second was from his brother asking him to be the best man when he married Len’s ex-wife.

It was too much. Len hadn’t slept more than a few hours in the past few days, and he was wired with stim after stim to make it through the second surgery.

He wanted Jim. He wanted sleep. He wanted a drink.

God, he wanted a drink.

He pinged Hiroji, his therapist he hadn’t seen in a couple months, but got back the automatic message that he was gone until Monday with a number for emergencies. Was this an emergency? He buried his head in his hands.

Ok, he would go out for one drink. One tequila, maybe. Not bourbon, bourbon was where he’d had his problems. One tequila, then back to his room to sleep. Alcohol would help with sleep, really.

Problem solved, he changed out of his scrubs and into civilian clothes, jeans and leather jacket. He decided to walk to the closest bar, a little dive just off campus. It was early enough that he probably wouldn’t run into anyone he knew. One drink, head back home.

On the way, he walked past the hospital and saw a light from one of the windows at the top, Boyce’s window. God, he was being an idiot, but changed course to go to Boyce’s office. Through the corridor he’d left less than an hour ago, up the elevator, past where he’d been held on his first day to get the bracelet, up to the top floor.

He walked down the hall and rapped lightly on Boyce’s door. The door slid open and Len entered. “McCoy,” Boyce said from sitting at his desk. “welcome, have a seat.”

“Thanks, sir,” Len said sitting, feeling stupid.

“What brings you to my office on this” - he looked out at the falling night - “evening?” he finished.

“Was about to do something stupid,” Len said.

“How stupid?”

“Have a drink stupid.”

Boyce nodded slowly. “You had drinks with me a couple weeks ago.”

Len sighed. “I was about to have a drink because I felt bad and wanted to stop feeling that way, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to stop.”

Boyce nodded. “Thank you for explaining.” He leaned back in his chair. “Tell you what, I was supposed to have a poker game tonight, but a couple of the guys cancelled. Why don’t you come over?”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“It’s fine,” Boyce said. “If it wasn’t I’d sign you into the clinic for observation until tomorrow morning. Come over, we’ll watch the rugby game; I’ve got a steak with your name on it.”

This was a better idea than Len had had since he watched the messages from his family. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all,” Boyce said. He grabbed his coat and they left together. Boyce had a large apartment with a balcony not far from campus, and they were able to walk there discussing only a few articles on a new skin grafting procedure that had been in use in Indonesia for the past few years.

Boyce opened the door and directed Len to a stool at a counter. “Water or lemonade?”

Len smiled sadly; he hated that he needed babysitting. “Lemonade sounds great.”

They talked as Boyce started the grill and put the steaks on. There was a rap at the door. “Can you grab that? It’s just Chris,” Boyce said and Len got up and admitted Pike.

“McCoy,” he said shaking his hand. “Phil, you find enough people to fill out our game?”

“No, just one surgeon that needed dinner.”

Pike seemed good with that answer, and helped himself to a glass and a couple fingers of whiskey from the bottle on the counter. He held out the bottle to Len.

“He’s not drinking tonight,” Boyce said to Pike. “Bad week.”

“We’ve all been there,” Pike said setting the bottle down and taking a sip of his glass. God, that looked good.

Boyce took the steaks off the grill, added some potatoes and green beans he had heating on the stove and the three men took their plates to the living room and sat on the chairs around the holovid. Boyce started the game and they ate in contented silence.

“Kirk gets back soon,” Pike said casually after they were all mostly finished eating.

“Yes, statistically the most dangerous part of the entire trip is re-entry to earth.”

Boyce barked out a laugh. “Not wrong. But we’ve got a good record and great pilots.” He stood and collected everyone’s plates.

“You want to talk about what’s wrong?” Pike asked once Boyce had left. “As a friend, not your superior officer.”

Len wasn’t sure what to say here. “I, uh, lost two patients this week.” Pike nodded encouragingly. “Odds weren’t good going in, but two in a row is hard. And, I know it’s dumb, but my ex-wife is getting remarried.”

Pike let out a whistle. “All this while Kirk’s away. Good for you to going to Phil.”

“Thank you, sir.” Len stared at the ground. “I was heading to the bar and saw his light was on and my feet took there. Dumb luck, probably.”

“What do you know about the new fiancé? I can run a background check, no problem. You just say the word.” Boyce walked back in and sank into his seat.

Len laughed hollowly. “Oh, no need. I know him pretty well. She’s marrying my little brother.”

Pike fell back slightly in his chair and took a long drink from his glass. “Your _brother_?”

“Yeah. We all grew up together, so they’ve been friends for as long as Jocelyn and I were friends. He’s, uh, great dad to my daughter already.” Pike shook his head. “My little girl and Luke - Luke’s my brother - both already invited me to the wedding.”

Pike winced in sympathy. “At least you can show up in your dress uniform and show her you’ve moved on.”

Len laughed hollowly. “I always forget not everyone’s from Georgia. Jocelyn is a well-know holovid host. The wedding going to be the event of the year, if I know Jocelyn. There’ll be senators and CEOs and every well-known and well-connected person within a couple hundred kilometers.”

“Jocelyn … McCoy,” Boyce said. “I never put it together.”

“Jocelyn Unplugged,” Pike said, figuring it out at the same time.

“Yeah,” Len agreed.

“Her yearly _Kelvin_ special is better than anything we do here,” Pike said.

“I’ve cried three out of the last four years,” Boyce said.

“No wonder she got everything in the divorce,” Pike said.

“That’s what my lawyer told me, too,” Len said.

“You’re a hell of a surgeon but you sure married up, son,” Boyce said.

“I did,” Len agreed. “She, much like myself, just loved her career more than making things work in a marriage.”

Boyce and Pike clinked their glasses to that and they all went back to watching the game. Just when Len thought it was probably time to make his way back home, both Boyce and Pike’s comms started beeping an emergency alert.

They grabbed their comms and listened for a moment. Once Boyce was off the comm, Len would ask if he was needed at the clinic, and if not head home. He was tired enough to sleep by now.

Boyce jumped up while he was listening, and Pike hung up only to punch in another number. “I heard,” he said tersely. “All communication is out? Just alert all of the relevant airspaces that it’s our ship and not to fire.”

Shit, what was going on?

Pike was listening. “Keep hailing, I know they’re working on fixing it. They don’t need all of the engines to land, just one.”

Len glanced at the clock. This was just about when Jim’s ship was scheduled to come back to earth.

Pike hung up. “Yes, the _Coleman_ is having problems with re-entry. I’m going to head over to HQ and keep an eye on things.”

Len was about to start panicking. “Jim?”

“Right,” Pike said looking up over Len’s shoulder.

“Sorry about this,” and Boyce hit Len in the neck with a hypo.

“What?” Len was confused and everything was getting fuzzy.

“There’s nothing you can do and you haven’t slept in days. When you wake up, we’ll deal with whatever has happened.” Len felt a hand on his shoulder. “Jim’s going to be fine.”

Len tried to say more but he wasn’t sure if he was talking or if he just was trying to talk. His last moments of awareness was Boyce spreading a blanket over him. He couldn’t open his eyes and everything went dark and silent.

At the edge of his consciousness, he thought he heard Jim’s voice and he tried and tried to open his eyes. It was important that he do this, he knew that. It was so hard, impossible.

“Boooooones,” a voice that sounded like Jim’s said. “Bones. I’m here and Dr. Boyce says you can wake up anytime.” Len was slowly able to open his eyes and was greeted by the sight of Jim leaning over him. “There’s coffee,” Jim said.

“There’s water and juice because he’s probably dehydrated,” Boyce called from the kitchen.

“Jim?” Len slurred. Jim had grabbed his hand and was slowly bending his arm to get the blood flowing, like Len had taught him. “Shuttle?”

“There were some complications getting back down, but we landed safely and everyone is fine.” Jim switched to the other arm. He turned towards the kitchen and called out, “If you don’t give him coffee, he’s going to be on your couch all day.”

Boyce came in with a tray bearing a couple glasses of water. “Water, then coffee. Doctor’s orders.” He set the tray on the coffee table. “Would you like to try sitting?” he asked Len.

Len tried to say something, but his tongue wasn’t cooperating.

“Get his legs moving,” Boyce said. “He’s still waking up.” Boyce sat on the coffee table and looked at Len, as Len felt Jim moving to the bottom of the couch to start his legs in a slow bicycle rotation. Boyce interlaced his fingers around his knee. “I knew you were in a bad spot emotionally, and physically run down as well after all those shifts. There was nothing you could do while we waited to hear about the _Coleman_ ’s re-entry. Nothing. I made the choice as your doctor to hypo you to sleep for the duration. You are welcome to feel angry about it, but it was my decision and the right decision.”

Len’s eyebrow’s creased. “Drink your water and you can have coffee.” Boyce and Jim helped Len into sitting and Boyce handed him the glass with a straw.

“Give yourself twenty minutes or so and Kirk can walk you home.” Boyce patted his knee and stood. Probably to go drink coffee, the bastard. Jim sat next to Len and Len reached out a hand so he could touch Jim like he'd been wanting to do for weeks. He felt for the pulse point on his wrist.

“I’m ok,” Jim said softly. “You know how I knew what had gone wrong during re-entry? All those fucking flight sims with you.” He laughed dryly, shaking his head. “We did hundreds of them, and there was one time all the engines went out - remember? And I did that sim over and over.”

“Five times.”

“Yeah,” Jim agreed. “We repeated that sim five times, more than any of the others. And it was one of those random ones, where it has to be the exact right fucked up situation for it to happen.” Jim laughed, slightly manically. “You saved us, Bones. Without that sim, I wouldn't have known how to start the engine again.”

Len had done nothing of the sort. Jim had saved them. “You are never fucking leaving the planet without me again,” Len said. “Never.”

Jim grinned at Len, the happiest Len had ever seen him. “I knew you’d be my CMO someday, but I thought it might take me three years to convince you, not just one.” Jim leaned his forehead against's Len's forehead. "I told you I'd be back."

"Is it too soon to retire and start herding sheep?" 

"Way too soon, Bones! We have places up there to explore!" 

  
***

  
Two years of Starfleet Academy down, and one to go. Jim and Len still had summer courses and research projects and Len had clinic shifts, but they had rearranged as much as possible to get almost two weeks off to head to Georgia for Jocelyn and Luke’s wedding.

They were greeted at the airport by Luke and Joanna, Joanna running up to Len and throwing her arms around him. “Daddy!” she said, clutching her fairy princess wand and a drawing she’d made of her family: Joanna herself, Papa, Mama, Daddy, Jim and Sprinkles, the classroom guinea pig. They'd been videochatting regularly, and Luke had brought her out to visit San Francisco almost as often as Jim and Len had made the trip back to Georgia for holidays. 

Despite Luke’s offer of a spare bedroom, Len had gotten a hotel because damned if he and Jim weren’t going to have sex as loud as they wanted on their first proper vacation together.

The day of the wedding was warm and sunny, with the wedding at the oldest church in Atlanta. Luke had asked both Len and Jim to be his groomsmen. They could have worn their dress grays, but Len didn’t care about rank, but also didn’t like outranking Jim, so they were both in tuxes.

Jim looked good, really good, in his tux.

The rehearsal the night before had gone smoothly, not that Jocelyn or her wedding planning team would have left anything to go to chance. Joanna was the flower girl, but since Mama got to walk down the aisle with her Daddy, Joanna threw herself on the floor until everyone - Jocelyn - relented and let _her_ daddy Len walk her down the aisle, while Jim escorted both of Jocelyn’s bridesmaids.

They were all at the back of the church, Jocelyn still camped out in a room somewhere so no one could see her before her big moment. No one besides the wedding planner, the photographers, film crew, make-up and hair people, if Len had to guess.

The music started, Jim straightened Len’s bowtie and gave him a kiss. Joanna grabbed Len's hand and they walked down the aisle together, Joanna stopping to throw petals every couple of steps and waving at people she knew, Len beaming at her the whole time.

Jim and Len left the reception early after promising Joanna they'd see her in the morning to take her to the aquarium. Jim dragged Len to the rooftop of their hotel - he was always drawn to the stars - and they ate cake and laughed and kissed in the summer night air. 

"I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I hadn't taken Pike up on his dare," Jim said. "What I'd be doing instead."

Len couldn't imagine Starfleet without Jim Kirk. He couldn't imagine his _life_ without Jim Kirk. "I wouldn't have made it off the shuttle," he said.

Jim smiled at him. "And to think I now have you going to the stars with me." 

Len knew this was an argument he'd lost long ago, so he leaned over and kissed Jim instead. 

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this during the 2010 Star Trek Ship Wars on LJ, which does feel like a million years ago, yes. I ignored it for basically a decade, and only lately had an urge to finish it. Thank you for reading. 
> 
> People names from a random name generator. Buildings and ships were named after:  
> * Jemison dormitory / Mae Jemison, first female African American astronaut in space  
> * Johnson administration building / Katherine Johnson, African American NASA mathematician, from _Hidden Figures_  
>  * Coleman shuttle / Bessie Coleman, first African American women to get a pilot’s license


End file.
